Sixteen Candles
by deacon.and.i
Summary: "Why us? Out of all 'em kids, why'd you choose a bunch of greasers to hang around with?" I shrug my shoulders, thinking of how to answer. I know exactly why I'm here. I'm tired of being the perfect little girl my parents want. I'm tired of the dull and routine life I live. I'm here because I crave excitement, and I know the greasers can provide me with that.
1. Breaking Free from My Old Self

**Sixteen**  
><em>Chapter One<em>

**Author's Note:** If any of you are familiar with the TV show, _Freaks and Geeks_, you'll probably recognizes a similarity between the show and this story. I only wanted to do an _Outsiders_ take on it, and I can't even begin to express how amazed I am with how this chapter turned out. I hope you all like this as much as me. :)

Here's a little background information that should be noted. This story begins in Oct. 1964 - almost a year before the book takes place (so, Soda recently turned 16 as well as the main character). Most of the characters are sophomores in high school. Darry, Soda and Pony's parents are still alive, so Soda is still in school. I think I'm going to make both boys still work at the DX - instead of full time, Soda will be part time with Steve - but I'm not sure. Yes, this fanfic will follow the events of the story, and I don't know if it'll actually reach the point where the book begins. :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _The Outsiders_ or _Freaks and Geeks_.

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><p>I follow behind a group of greasers from Tiber Street Tigers; my nerves are eating away at my insides and inside my stomach, the butterflies are going absolutely crazy.<p>

Their group continues onward, stepping through the high school's front doors and into the October air. I stop right outside the entryway, scanning the parking lot nervously for Sodapop Curtis and the group of boys he hangs around.

I feel myself yearning to vomit when my eyes settle on Sodapop and his friends. I anxiously gnaw on my cheek while sauntering towards the group.

I recognize Two-Bit Mathews and Dallas Winston as the boys leaning against the old, beat-up truck, and if I remember correctly, Steve Randle is perched on top of the hood with his arm wrapped around an unfamiliar blonde's waist.

Sodapop looks up, failing to suppress a smirk as his eyes catch mine. "Well, I'll be damned," he laughs. "I didn't think you'd actually take me up on my offer." I merely shrug my shoulders, teeth moving to bite on my bottom lip. "You know Two-Bit, Steve and Dal, but this here is Sandy, Steve's girl, Evie, and Dally's girl, Sylvia." He points each of them out to me, and before I have a chance to introduce myself to them, Sodapop beats me to it. "Fellas, this is Eileen. She's in most of my classes." Sylvia smacks her gum loudly, fully observing me.

"What's a ritzy broad like her doin' out here?" She asks rudely, turning to face Soda. "Ain't you got other friends you can hang out with?" Dallas chuckles quietly under his breath, and from the corner of my eye, I can see Steve and Evie giggling quietly together. Sodapop rolls his eyes in annoyance, turning to look at her.

"Sylvia, can't you be nice for least once?" He turns to look at me again, casually wrapping his arm around Sandy's waist. "Well, a couple of the Brumley boys challenged old Stevie here to a drag race at 12:30. We're all gonna skip until then. You wanna come?" Evie snorts loudly, laying her head on Steve's shoulder; Two-Bit stands beside her, grinning uncontrollably. Unintentionally, I tense up.

"Do you really think she'd wanna skip school? C'mon, Soda, that's like asking Buck to give out free drinks to the whole bar. It ain't gonna happen." Evie announces. I can feel my cheeks heating up, and with each comment these girls throw at me, I feel myself regretting my decision to even come out here. Sylvia nods in agreement, leaning against Dallas. Two-Bit takes a swig of beer.

"I dunno, Evie," he comments, pulling the bottle back. "It might take a little persuadin', but I think we can get her to agree." I bite back a smile while silently telling myself to relax.

"C'mon, Princess," Dallas gripes. "We ain't got all day for you to make up your mind. Hurry before the lunch bell rings." Everyone turns their attention towards me; once again, I tense up. I can feel my hand starting to become slick with a thin sheet of sweat, and without even thinking, I nod my head. Sylvia doesn't appear too happy with my decision, but Sodapop and Two-Bit look excited that I'm agreeing to partake in their erratic activities.

XxXxXxX

Steve and Evie claim the cab, generously leaving the rest of us to ride in the bed of his truck. "Drag racin' is real fun," Two-Bit explains, casually slinging his arm around my shoulder. "'Specially if you're in one. Hey, Sodie, do you think Steve'll let Eileen ride with him durin' the drag race?" Sylvia grins wildly.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. I bet she'll have loads of fun." Dallas smirks at his girlfriend's suggestion before pulling her chin towards hers. Following that, the two start kissing and progressing into other things I've never wanted to witness. Sodapop grins jovially, not realizing the torture it'd be putting me through.

"I'm sure if we beg him enough."

"No," I answer weakly, barely able to control the wavering of my voice. I shake my head slowly for more emphasis. The small group looks at me; Sylvia and Dallas look down on me while everyone else stares sadly, silently expressing the hurt they're feeling from my decision. I swallow hard, chewing the inside of my cheek - a habit of mine when I'm nervous. "No." I get a grip on my voice, firmly stating I won't do it. "I'm not drag racing with Steve. I don't want to." Sodapop eases up, allowing a small grin to take over his lips.

"Trust me, Eileen," he smiles. "It sounds scary at first, but once you get goin', it's a hell of a lotta fun. C'mon, I promise ya ain't gonna regret it." Underneath me, I can feel the truck decreasing in speed. I break my attention away from Soda and to my surroundings, temporarily setting the idea of me getting up close and personal with drag racing to the side.

"I thought 'em Brumley boys were suppose to be here," Two-Bit comments, looking around. "It ain't like 'em to show up late to a drag race."

"I ain't too sure why we're here so early. I didn't think the race was suppose to start until 12:30." Sandy comments quietly, playing with her fingers.

"Steve, what the hell're you doin'?" Soda inquires loudly, pulling Sandy forcefully against his body. Her eyes widen suddenly at the contact, but her surprise is replaced with innocent giggles seconds later.

Steve throws the driver's side door open and hops to the dirt covered ground below. "I dunno," he answers, shutting the door behind him. "We ain't got nothin' better to do, so I figured we'd come early." Evie's door opens, but unlike Steve, she climbs out at a slower pace - almost like she's trying to make herself more appealing to everyone around her.

"Sylvia, come with me to the woods," Evie demands. "I gotta take a piss, and I ain't itchin' to go alone." She rolls her eyes, but, nonetheless, she pulls away from Dallas. Sandy sits up abruptly.

"Evie, I'm comin' with." She announces, carefully climbing over the wall of the truck bed. Sandy hits the ground and smoothes her skirt lovingly before skipping to Steve's girl's side. Evie and Sandy turn, and with Sylvia following behind slowly, they head towards the woods.

Before I know it, they're out of sight, and I'm left alone with Two-Bit, Soda, Steve and Dally.

"Ey, Steve, the boys and I were talkin', and we think you should let ole Eileen here ride with ya durin' the drag race. We gotta break her into our crazy antics somehow." Soda smirks, elbowing his best friend playfully. Steve snorts loudly.

"I ain't 'bout to let her ride with me," he answers. I feel relief wash over me instantly, drowning out any feeling of offense I was beginning to experience. "You nuts, Sodapop? Evie'll have a fit if I let another girl ride with me. Sides, I ain't takin' the chance of her messin' up my interior."

"C'mon, Steve," Two-Bit whines in protest. "She ain't gonna mess up the insides. Lighten up, Buddy." Dally snorts quietly.

"It ain't like she's Two-Bit," Dallas comments. "I'll bet anythin' I have when I say there's a real good chance she's cleaner than 'im." Although it's an insult to him, Two-Bit nods his head happily.

Steve looks towards me, eyeing me suspiciously. Inside, I can feel myself growing hotter. In fact, I would go as far to say that there's a good chance my internal temperature has exceeded the external by several more degrees. My eyebrows scrunch together nervously; my teeth find their way back to my cheek, absentmindedly chewing away at the inside.

"It ain't gonna kill ya, Steve, let her ride with ya." Soda coaxes, gently nudging his friend. Off in the distance, the low rumble of engines make themselves present. Steve looks towards the noise, and once he realizes the Brumly boys are drawing near, he sighs loudly. He looks me straight in the eyes, not giving me a single word. To be honest, he's intimidating me more than usual, and I'll give anything I have to make him stop.

"You can ride in the passenger's seat, but on one condition," Steve warns lowly. "If you so much as mess up a single thing, you better run. I finally got it to the way that I like it, and I ain't too hot for the idea off fixin' anything inside again." He's terrifying me, and even though I have as much courage as I can muster up, I still nod my head weakly. "All right, c'mon, them boys are comin', and they're gonna wanna start as soon as they get here." Steve steps away from the truck, heading straight for the driver's side. Dallas and Two-Bit climb out of the bed wordlessly, but Sodapop watches me gleefully.

"You're gonna have so much fun, Eileen. Steve's a professional when it comes to drivin'. Hell, believe it or not, but that boy can drive anything on wheels." Soda hops over the side of the truck. He hits the ground hard, but nonetheless, he turns, offering his hands to me. I take them silently, allowing Soda to help me reach the ground safely without my skirt flying up - exposing something teenage boys don't need to see.

One of the trucks pull up along side Steve's. I finish getting myself situated while straining to hear what words the two boys are exchanging to each other. Each are mysteriously talking quietly, and the only things I can pick up on are "75 dollars", "1 week" and "you're gonna lose".

The two competitors get themselves ready, patiently waiting for the countdown to begin. Two-Bit steps in front of the trucks, positioning himself in the center of both vehicles to prevent any human harm.

Once the countdown begins, my nerves start running high. Swallowing hard, I clutch the handle above my door tightly and I grab a hold of the seat in between Steve and me. At the moment, there's only one thing on my mind.

I hope Steve Randle is as good as Soda made him out to be.

Steve presses the pedal to the flooring of the truck, sending the automobile lurching forward. My heart begins to pound harder, and the constant fear of it pounding through my chest looms over me.

Brumly pulls ahead of us, and underneath his breath, I can hear Steve muttering a few swear words. "I ain't 'bout to let that asshole win!" He exclaims, applying more pressure to the gas pedal. The speedometer continues to climb higher; the two Brumly boys ahead are soon beside us and before long, they're behind his truck. Steve begins to grin; he's fully aware that he's won the race.

Not too long after the two started their drag race, it ends. Steve won, no doubt, and like Sodapop said, he's an absolute professional at driving.

I turn towards Steve with a grin slowly, very slowly, consuming my once scared face. He unsuccessfully cocks an eyebrow at me, wondering what my problem is. "What's wrong with your face?" Steve asks quietly - a rarity for him. My happiness dims; a couple chuckles escape through my lips.

"Your friends were right. That was fun!"

XxXxXxX

It doesn't take much convincing from Soda to persuade Steve to give him and Sandy a ride back to her house, but he seems a little more apprehensive when I ask the same question. "You ain't a greaser," Steve stares, overlooking my appearance. I nod my head once. "Ain't it gonna be dangerous for some greasers to take a girl like you home?"

"I don't see why it would be," I retort, planting my fists firmly on my hips. "I'm not from the West side, so none of you are going to get jumped. Besides, everyone is still in school and at work, so you'll be fine." Steve rolls his eyes, quickly growing annoyed with me. Frankly, I don't care right now. I'm upset.

"Steve, please?" Sodapop pleads. "Her house is on the way to the East side, so you don't have to go out of your way." I shift, crossing my arms over my chest and resting my weight on my right side.

He groans loudly, burying his face in his hands. "I give up," he mutters. "Get in the back of the damn truck. If it'll get you off my back, I'll take you home. Good Lord." I smile victoriously, climbing into the back with Sandy and Soda. Evie and Steve both find their ways to the front. He starts the truck and begins the journey to my middle class house.

XxXxXxX

"Eileen!" Dad exclaims once he realizes I'm home. I shut the door behind me, kicking my shoes off and dropping my backpack to the ground. "Sis, what are you doing home so soon?" I can see from the look in his eyes that he's not exactly pleased with my choice of skipping class. In response, I shrug my shoulders.

"I was hanging out with my new friends. They're from the East side."

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><p>As every fanfiction author says, feel free to leave a review! I would really appreciate it. :)<p>

If you have any questions regarding this story, please, feel free to PM me. I'll be happy to clear up any confusion you might have.


	2. I'm Never Going Back

**Sixteen**  
><em>Chapter Two<em>

**Author's Note:** Hello, Everyone. I hope you're all having a fabulous day.

I would've updated the other day, but before a new chapter is posted, my goal is to have a couple extra chapters written. Also, something terrible is happening with my grandfather, and that had delayed my writing that was suppose to occur over the weekend. Although I won't bore you with the details, please keep him in your thoughts and prayers. I would really appreciate it.

And lastly, I'd like to thank andthatwasenough & bindizoya-sagittaquarius. I really appreciate both of you reviewing, and I hope to hear from both of you with each new chapter to come!

In chapter two, we meet a few new characters, and I'm curious to see what you all think of them. My cousin currently doesn't know how to feel about one of the lovely ladies in this chapter. ;)

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><p>Dad didn't seem too concerned earlier when he found out I was hanging out with kids from the East side. Initially, I was pretty shocked. My parents were aware of how some of the kids on that side of town behaved, and when my dad only stared at me blankly, not displaying any form of alarm, I thought maybe he, along with my mom, had experienced a change of heart. My parents were affectionate and always willing to help others in need, so I thought they were more accepting of people on the East side, knowing fully that they could hardly make ends meet each week.<p>

Boy, was I wrong with that guess.

It turns out Dad didn't seem to care too much about my new take of friends because he was waiting to react once Mom got home. Now, I'm aware he was waiting for her to know, so he could feed off her reaction for the fear that if he had responded while alone, he would've either been too hard or too lenient on me.

Now that I realize this is what he's doing, I'm actually pretty thankful for it.

"Honey, we need to talk about Eileen's latest interest," Dad begins. Mom, along with my older sister, Imogene, and older brother, Douglas, look up towards him. For the fear of how my mom will react, I continue staring blankly at my plate, pushing my spaghetti noodles around with a preoccupied mind. "I believe she skipped her afternoon classes today, and she told me that she was hanging out with her new friends from the East side." Imogene gasps loudly, successfully catching my attention.

"What's the matter, Imogene?"

"Mom, she's hanging out with greasers," she explains. "She's hanging out with hoods. They're going to get her into serious trouble. Do you know what their idea of fun consists of?" When Mom turns to look at me, I can see her eyes swimming with worry. "If she makes them mad, they might even hurt her."

"That's not true, Mom!"

"Honey, I don't know if I'm comfortable with you hanging out with those teens. If what Imogene said is true, those boys, and even the girls, could possibly hurt you. You've seen them on the news. Darling, they hold up gas stations and stuff like that. They're well trained when it comes to fights, and I wouldn't be surprised if their arguments resorted to fists automatically." Dad nods his head, wordlessly expressing he shares the same concern as my mother.

"Mom, they're not as bad as you think they are," I share. "I don't doubt that there are some dangerous greasers out there, but these guys, and girls, aren't that bad." Douglas swallows some of his dinner, staring at me the whole time.

"What's their names?"

"Well, there's Sodapop Curtis, Two-Bit Mathews, Steve Randle, Dallas Winston, and some girls named Sandy, Sylvia and Evie." Imogene's eyes widen drastically while Douglas looks towards Mom nervously.

"Yeah," he answers quietly. "I don't blame you for not wanting her to hang around them. Soda and Two-Bit aren't bad, but Steve has quite a temper, and Dallas is in jail more than he's not. Rumor has it that he's got a long list down at the station, and all of the cops know him by name." Imogene's face drains of color, and to be honest, I'm not too sure if it's over the description Douglas has provided my family with of Dallas or if it's because I consider those boys my new friends.

"If those two boys aren't that great, then surely the girls aren't the nicest too, right?" Dad asks, desperately craving more information in order to keep me, his little girl, safe and away from those "goons". Douglas merely shrugs his shoulders.

"I've heard about them," Imogene speaks up. "Carolyn's little sister is fairly good friends with Sandy. She's not too bad; from what I understand, she's a ditz, but she's an absolute sweetheart, willing to go out of her way for anyone. She's not like a typical greaser girl, but as for the other two, I haven't heard such good things about." Mom looks at her, silently pleading with her to continue.

"Come on, Imogene, tell us what you know about those other girls." Dad speaks gently, persuading my oldest sibling to expose them of Evie and Sylvia's persona.

"From what I understand, Sylvia is a frequent customer of Buck's. She has this on-again-off-again relationship with Dallas Winston, and whenever they're not together, she's down at his place dancing dirty with some other men. I don't think Evie is as bad as her. I think Evie is more civil and not as erotic, but I know that she can either be your best friend or she can be your worst enemy. Either way, I've heard that Evie is an absolute witch, even if you're her best friend." Dad and Mom share a quick glance with each other before turning their attention towards me.

"We don't want you hanging out with those teens again," Dad instructs. "If we catch your, or if Imogene or Douglas catch you, there will be severe consequences. Do you understand, young lady?" As discreet as I can be, I roll my eyes; to my amazement, my parents fail to notice.

"Eileen, it's for your own good," Mom adds sweetly. "You're smart, and you're a good girl. You don't need to be getting mixed up with teens like that. What happened to Jacquelyn? Aren't you two still friends? You have her. You have no reason to hang around those teens. Do you understand why we're doing this?" With an agitated grumble, I answer her question.

"Yes, Mom, I understand."

XxXxXxX

It's been almost a week since my parents calmly demanded that I remain as far away from my greasers friends as possible. For the first few days, I felt guilty and awful for disobeying them, but as the time spent with them progresses, the guilt goes away. Although greasers are notorious for negative things in this town, this group is more fun than Jacquelyn and our small group of friends ever were.

At lunch, Jacquelyn eagerly waves me over with a gigantic smile on her face. My eyes dart towards the corner of the cafeteria, where Sodapop and his friends are sitting. Like Jacquelyn, he's motioning me towards their group. I bite down on my bottom lip, deciding on where to go. With my old friend acknowledging me, I'm starting to feel the ever familiar feeling of guilt that I was so positive I abandoned earlier this week. The only positive about this reoccurring feeling is that the source isn't from disobeying my parents.

Instead, it's from pushing my grade school best friend out of my life.

With a heavy sigh, I start towards Soda's table. I try not to think about Jacquelyn, and how she's probably watching my back with hurt set in her eyes. My mind dwells on it; no matter how much I force myself to think of something else, the mental image of her makes itself present.

I drop my tray beside Soda, controlling myself as best as I can to not look back at Jacquelyn, and I can feel myself wanting to give in. My self-control is weakening, and I know that any minute, I'm going to cave. "Hey, what's wrong?" Soda asks, grabbing my attention. I look at him, plastering a fake smile onto my face.

"Nothing," I lie, trying harder to push her out of my mind. Sodapop, along with Sandy and Two-Bit, don't look convinced. "I promise, nothing is wrong. I'm fine." All three of them continue staring at me while Dallas, Sylvia, Steve and Evie carry on with their own conversation. "I have to say, you guys are really lucky my brother and sister aren't in the same lunch as us." Soda seems to forget about my previous guilty state. He cracks a wide grin.

I couldn't help but share with them what my parents said to me. I should've known better; I should've kept it to myself for the fear that I would manage to offend them, but I couldn't help myself. I felt they deserved to know.

To my surprise, they took it exceptionally well. Soda, Two-Bit and Sandy found a lot of humor in it; they laughed for a good few minutes. Sylvia merely rolled her eyes, and I managed to get a self-satisfied smirk from Dallas, a grin from Evie and a few seconds of laughter from Steve.

I had felt fairly accomplished, no doubt.

"Oh, yes," Sandy giggles. "I bet these hooligans are gonna jump ya after school." Sodapop wraps his arm around Sandy's shoulders, pulling her against his body. He presses a kiss to her temple before pulling her into a headlock. "Soda!" She sequels through laughs, struggling to break free.

"Sandy, you're givin' away our plans! Now, she's gonna know." He playfully scolds, ruffling up her hair. Seconds later, he releases her.

"You two are nuts."

XxXxXxX

Sodapop takes a seat beside me in English, dropping his copy of Grapes of Wrath onto the table. "Hello, Doll Face," he greets, sitting down. "Steve an' I are gonna head out on the town tonight. Wanna come with? It's Friday night an' all. You ain't got plans, do you?" I shake my head slowly, trying to comprehend what's going on.

It sounds as though Sandy and Evie aren't going, and if that's the case, why in the world would Soda want me to tag along?

Before I think twice, I voice my concern. "If it's only you and Steve, why do you want me to go?" Soda shrugs.

"I dunno," he comments. "We're gonna have a fun time tonight, and I was just wonderin' if you wanna go or not. Are ya in?"

"I don't know. I'll think about it. What do you two even plan on doing anyway?" Soda starts to smile like a madman, ultimately causing newer concerns of mine to skyrocket. "Soda, I can't get into trouble with the law or else my parents are going to kill me."

"It's a surprise," he answers, staring at me innocently. "But trust me, we ain't gonna get caught by any police. If we do, we'll take all the blame, and we'll convince the officer to not pin anything on you." My eyes widen, and I'm sure he's staring at an expression of absolute horror. Sodapop laughs, turning to get his desk ready for class.

Weakly, I turn forward to face the chalkboard.

As Mrs Gramm bores the class with her overanalyzed explanation of Grapes of Wrath, I find myself thinking hard about all of the excitement going out with Soda and Steve tonight will bring.

Lately, the idea of getting caught with these greasers excites me. I know that sneaking out of the house once my parents and siblings have retired to their room will bring an adrenaline rush, and once the idea inhabits itself into my mind, I find myself start to crave the rush.

I anxiously tap my fingers on the top of my desk. I'm sure everyone around me can tell I'm starting to get antsy, and frankly, I don't know if I'll be able to remain calm until the end of class. I'm going to explode.

I can't wait to tell Soda that I'm in for whatever antics he and Steve plan on partaking in this evening.

XxXxXxX

Jacquelyn races to my side, inviting herself to walk home with me. Honestly, I don't care. I'm too engrossed in the thought of what Soda and Steve have in mind for later tonight.

All I know is that I'm suppose to be at the end of my block by 12:30 this evening.

"How come you didn't sit with me today?" Jacquelyn asks, making her presence known. Instead of a verbal answer, I shrug my shoulders. "I've noticed you been hanging out with those greasers lately. What's up with that?"

"I don't know, Jackie."

"I don't want them getting you into trouble. You're aware that it's going to happen, right? What do your parents think of them? Do they know about how much trouble they're going to get you in?" She impatiently brushes her curly brown hair out of her face, waiting for my response.

"Jacquelyn," I sigh. "They aren't as bad as you think they are. Yes, the whole town of Tulsa makes them sound like they're going to kill anyone who looks at them wrong, but no, they're actually fun to hang around." She frowns, weakly shaking her head.

"No, I highly doubt that, Eileen. They're no good, trouble making hoodlums."

"Seriously, Jacquelyn?" I groan, rolling my eyes. "Sure, they do get into trouble. Who doesn't? No one is perfect. But is it really necessary to degrade them when you're not on speaking terms with any of them? Do you really have a right to talk terribly about them when all you're familiar with is the stereotypes that the soc put on them?" She opens her mouth to intervene. Before she can get in a word, I proceed with my rant. "I'm not trying to say they're perfect, but neither are you, Jacquelyn. And before you start to criticize them, how about trying to get to know one of them? After that, you have something to base your currently insulting opinion off of."

She stops abruptly, taken off guard that I would basically defend a bunch of poorer teens. I halt seconds later. I turn to look at her; Jackie stares back at me angrily; her arms crossed over her chest tightly. "If that's the case, don't come crawling back to me when you realize they're screwing up your future." Jacquelyn turns suddenly, storming off in the opposite direction.

I watch her wander off, wondering if she could have possibly been anymore dramatic.

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><p>I would love to hear from all of you - whether you're leaving feedback on the story or your thoughts on the newest additions to the story. Please, don't be shy! :)<p> 


	3. Danger Zone

**Sixteen**  
><em>Chapter Three<em>

**Author's Note:** Ouch. No reviews for chapter two? Oh well. It was only one chapter. I won't let it get to me.

I'd like to believe that the last chapter was good, and I thought it was, but I'll let you think whatever. Now, I hope you guys like this chapter, and if you do, please leave feedback. It helps me get an idea as to how people are liking this story, and it's sort of a big blow when no one reviews, ya dig?

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><p>I spend my afternoon, lounging around the house and anxiously waiting for 12:30 to approach. Mom shoots me several concerning looks, and I'm stuck reassuring her that I'm perfectly fine more times than I can count. In fact, I lost count after the seventh time.<p>

The remainder of the night passes by faster than Doug can spell "drunkenness". Before I realize it, it's 12:00, and my anxiety is starting to rise. At the point, I fear my family will never go to bed, ultimately ruining my evening plans.

My attention remains fixated on the wall clock above my desk. The time ticks on; my parents show absolutely no sign of venturing off to their room, and the movie sounds as though it's never going to end.

Around 12:20, my parents and siblings finally call it a night.

XxXxXxX

Soda hops out of Steve's truck, landing hard on the ground. "Hello, Miss Eileen," he greets, stepping out of the way. Sodapop makes a sweeping gesture with a grin brighter than Dallas Winston's future on his usually cheerful face. "I hope you're ready for a night fulla fun and crazy antics."

"What are we even doing tonight?" I climb into Steve's truck, reluctantly scooting over towards his best friend. For a split second, I catch Steve's attention. He doesn't look too entirely thrilled, but he remains absolutely quiet.

"Well, Miss Eileen," Soda explains, shutting the truck door beside him. He situates himself in the seat; Steve pulls away from the curb briskly, driving us into a night that's sure to be remembered forever. "As you found out not too long ago, Steve is awful good at drivin'. Tonight, we're gonna show you his other talent. Tonight, we're gonna lift hubcaps off the car 'round the neighborhood."

"Are you seriously?" I ask plainly, staring straight faced out the windshield. "You two made me sneak out of my house, so I can watch you two steal hubcaps?" Steve suppresses a smirk while Soda nods his head proudly.

After nearly 20 minutes of driving, Steve chooses the first victim – a house deep in the heart of the East side. My blood runs cold catching sight of the shack; it looks like something you would see in a horror film.

It looks as though someone has abandoned the house. I'm only aware that someone lives there because there's a light, dimmed by drawn curtains, sitting in front of the window. Observing the external aspect of this person's property brings me ten different degrees of disgust. The grass is outrageously high – maybe 4 or 5 inches above what's normal, and it grosses me out to thing of all the nasty bugs crawling around within there.

Steve leans against the steering wheel, looking over towards his friend. "Soda, take the steerin' wheel in case we needa get away fast." Steve commands, slowly opening his door. Without another word, he slips out into the dark, starry night. Once he's gone, Soda nudges me, urging me to slide into the driver's seat. Stubbornly, I shake my head.

"No way," I reply, staring nervously at the steering wheel. "There's no way in heck I'm going to be the getaway driver. I have no idea how to drive, and I don't have my license."

"Hell, neither do I. Trade me places then, so I can be the driver." Soda climbs over my lap, diving into the seat once occupied by Steve. I turn my attention back towards him. With something in hand, he's working away at prying the hubcap from the tire.

"Is he going to take all four?" I whisper, watching him in fascination.

"Sure is. S'long as he don't get caught," he answers. I bring my bottom lip in between my teeth. Once again, the idea of getting caught brings excitement to my otherwise dull and routine life. "Once time we got caught, and it was bad. He unknowinly picked Old Man William's house. Lemme tell ya, that man is, hands down, the meanest man on the face of this Earth."

"What'd he do to you guys?"

"He called the fuzz," Soda answers with a shrug, staring blankly out at Steve. "They let me off with a warnin', but Steve got arrested. Damn, I ain't never seen Evie so upset when she heard the news. She was bawlin'." He fades off, laughing slightly. "He ain't a bad guy, Eileen, I swear he ain't."

"Huh?"

"I ain't too sure if you realize this, but I can tell he scares ya. Whenever you look at 'im, I can see the fear in your eyes, but he ain't as bad as you think. He's been through a helluva lot more than any teen wants to go through." Soda looks at me; when I fail to make any form of response, he continues telling me Steve's story. "I'm sure he won't be too happy that I'm tellin' you all this, but the only person he ever loved was his ma. Then, something bad happened to her. I ain't sure what happened because he refuses to talk about it, but something awful happened. When she died, Steve was lost. His heartbreak turned into depression, and he became a shell of the fun-loving person he use to be. Aside from them soc, his mother's death is a big reason why he don't like anything." Soda blank expression turns perplexed in a heartbeat.

My heart sinks into my stomach upon hearing the information he's throwing on me. I was fully conscious that greasers didn't possess the greatest lives, but I was oblivious that they could live in such conditions. Deep down, I wonder if they all live like this, and it makes me a little nauseous to think that some might live in conditions more awful than Steve's.

"To be honest, I ain't sure who took Mrs Randle's death harder – Steve or his father." Soda laughs humorlessly. "His dad was a hell of a mess afterwards. He started drinkin' a lot, and he started to verbally abuse Steve. Sometimes he'd get physically. His dad wasn't no help. He only added onto his hatred for everything, and he made Steve even more depressed. He just made everything worse." Soda repeats gently. He directs his attention back towards Steve; I look at him too. He's busily working away at the third hubcap. "It'll be a miracle if someone cracks his bitterness. And we'll know that hell has frozen over if someone can ever get him to love them as much as he loved his mom."

Steve pries the fourth hubcap off. After stacking them on top of each other, he rises up and leisurely stalks back to the truck. A big, victorious smile is plastered on his face.

"I've never seen him so happy."

XxXxXxX

Soda is left in charge of choosing the next location; the whole truck ride there is absolutely silent, and to be honest, it was a little uncomfortable.

He locates a cleaner East side house, and with a bright smile, he emerges from the depths of the truck to go do his business - leaving Steve and me alone.

I glide over to the driver's seat. Being careful as to not touch my dirty shoes to Steve's seats, I turn to face him. He stares out the window, looking incredibly bored. "So, it's a little cold out tonight." I comment, attempting to start a conversation.

Soda's story tugged at my heart strings, leading me to actually give the greaser a chance. Plus, I'm desperate for the awkward silence to go away.

Steve leans forward, digging around for something under the seat. Moments later, he straightens up, holding a black garment firmly in his hand. "Here, take Soda's jacket. He ain't gonna mind." Steve extends his hand, offering me Soda's jacket. I take it silently, offering him a small smile in thanks.

XxXxXxX

Steve climbs out of the truck for the third time tonight, and this time, Sodapop urges me to follow him. In response, I try to protest, using the defense that I don't want to get in major trouble. With a teasing wink, Soda tells me I'll only get in trouble if we all get caught. I roll my eyes, and when Steve knocks hurriedly on the window, I find myself in dire need of an answer.

I cave; reluctantly, I climb out of the truck, following Steve to the nearest car.

"I don't know how to do this!" I whisper in frustration - frustrated that Soda managed to get me to do this against my will. Steve turns around, shooting me a smirk of absolute amusement. It frightens me; it makes me wonder if giving Steve Randle a chance is going to be a good idea.

"It ain't that hard," he shares, heading to the back of his truck. Steve grabs something before leading me towards the car. "Are you gonna be able to do this, Princess, or are you gonna sit there like a bump on a log?" Through the night, I shoot Steve a dirty glare, annoyed at his choice of nickname.

"Listen here, Steve Randle," I shoot back, suddenly feeling confident. "Don't you dare call me a princess again or else you'll regret it." He continue to smirk, seemingly unfazed by my open threat.

"You sure can be a little spitfire, can't ya?" Steve turns, kneeling down next to a car that looks like my father's. He silently starts working away at the hubcap; my eyes nervously dart around the other areas of this person's property. "Are you gonna join me or are you gonna try an' draw attention to us?" Steve inquires. I look down only to find him peering back up at me.

"I'm sorry," I mutter, rolling my eyes. "What are you going to do anyway if you get caught?" I sink to my knees, lazily leaning against the car.

"You better believe I'm gonna run like hell to get out of here," he replies, turning his attention back to the tire. "I ain't 'bout to let the fuzz take me in. My dad'll shit himself, and it'll be hell for everyone involved. You included, Princess." I sit back on my feet, crossing my arms over my chest uncomfortably.

Deep down, it makes me feel incredibly awkward that I know more about Steve than he's aware of. I almost want to spill, letting him know what Soda had shared, and I almost do until I think about the consequences that'll surely follow.

I'm not too familiar with Steve Randle, but from what I've observed in all of the classes I've had with him over the years, I know he has quite the temper. It's not hard to make angry, and it'll give him more of a reason to fight – something I'm almost positive he enjoys doing.

Knowing this, I wonder if it'd cause tension between Soda and Steve if I let him in that I know about his home life.

In the end, I decide to keep my mouth shut.

"Hey, who's out there? What the hell are you doing?" Someone calls loudly, stepping on their front porch. Steve's head spins around rapidly.

My heart starts racing, pounding hard against my chest. I can feel tears springing to my eyes; we actually got caught. Several questions run through my head, but the one that continues to repeat itself is: _are we going to get arrested?_ Just that thought alone makes me want to curl up in a ball and die. I've never been in trouble with the law before.

Steve swears loudly, reaching for my arm. He yanks me to my feet and runs towards his truck with me in tow. "I've already called the cops!" The person from the front porch yells. "They're on their way!" We reach his truck; Steve throws the driver's side door open and pushes me inside.

Once the door slams shut, adrenaline starts to replace the fear. We're actually going to get away, and once we're far enough away from this house, there's no way the police will be able to find us.

Ten minutes later, red and blue lights are flashing behind us.

"Shit," Steve mutters, pulling over. Both vehicles roll to a stop, and the officer takes his sweet time strolling to Steve's side of the truck. Steve watches him in the mirror, sighing loudly. "Any damn day would be nice, fat ass." He grumbles impatiently.

Steve cranks the window down, waiting for the officer to reach us. When he does, he doesn't look too happy. "We received a complaint saying a couple of kids were spotted outside someone's home, and they were mighty suspicious looking. Are you three hoods the perpetrators?"

My eyes widen. My breath catches in my throat. I recognize the voice. Nervously, I turn to look at him.

As I suspected, it's Mr Rivera – a good friend of my dad's.

He recognizes me almost immediately, and once he does, a look of surprise appears on his face. "Eileen? What the hell are you doing running around with these boys? Lord, do your parents know you're with them?"

"You know him?" Soda inquires incredulously.

"All rights, fellas. I'll let you two off with a warning, and I'm feeling generous tonight, so I'm going to pretend I don't see all of the hubcaps in the bed." Steve and Soda look relieved, and I desperately wish I could say the same. "As for you, Eileen, I think you better step out of the vehicle. I think your parents will appreciate it when they hear where you've been and why I brought you home. C'mon now." Steve opens the door and steps out. I follow behind him reluctantly, and behind me, I can hear Soda tell me that he's sorry.

XxXxXxX

My ride home with Mr Rivera is silent, and any minute from now I'm due to succumb to my nerves and vomit everywhere.

As soon as he breaks the news, I know my parents are going to be all over me, and considering they're going to be rudely awakened, my punishment is going to be 20 times worse.

The thought alone makes me want to cry.

"Let's go, Missy," Mr Rivera says, shutting the car off. I look out the window, surprised that we're already at my house. I think twice about pleading with him to keep this our secret, but I know it'll be to no avail. He's strict with his own children, and since he's such good friends with my parents, there's no way I'll get any special treatment.

He opens his door, catching my attention. I reluctantly climb out of the car, and following behind him, I trudge to the door.

Mr Rivera makes me knock - loudly - on the door, and moments later, two very confused parents of mine answer. "Frank? Eileen? What's going on here?" Dad asks tiredly. Mom barely suppresses a yawn behind him. Mr Rivera shifts on his feet, waiting for me to share the news. When he realizes I'm not so eager to, he takes it upon himself to indirectly announce that I'm becoming a threat to society.

"I caught your daughter disturbing the peace with two hoods from the East side."

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><p>Please review! I'd love to hear what you all think. :)<p> 


	4. Stranger in My Own House

**Sixteen**  
><em>Chapter Four<em>

**Author's Note: **I'll be completely honest. I don't really remember what happens in this chapter. Oops. Either way, I hope you all like it!

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><p>Mom cries out once the words leave Mr Rivera's mouth; Dad looks far from pleased. As for me, I stare blankly at the concrete below me, absentmindedly kicking around imaginary dirt. "Eileen Elizabeth, what did we tell you?" Dad stops himself short, suddenly remembering that Frank Rivera is still present. He clears his throat awkwardly. "Uh, thank you, Frank. We really appreciate you bringing her home especially at this hour." With a nod of his head, Mr Rivera turns and heads back to his car.<p>

Once his back is facing us, Dad grabs my arm and furiously yanks me into the house.

"Were those the same boys that Douglas warned us about?" Weakly, I nod my head. "I thought we told you to stay away from those hoodlums, Eileen! They're going to get you into a lot of trouble, and you're lucky that it was Frank that caught you instead." Dad stops abruptly. He looks towards Mom, desperate for her help. With a loud, exasperated sigh, he directs his attention back towards me. "Go to bed, Eileen. We'll talk about this tomorrow morning."

He shakes his head angrily, lazily heading towards the couch. With Mom following behind him, the two fall onto the couch.

When their attention focused on each other and my "bad" behavior, I scurry off down the hall, hoping to reach my room before my parents decide to call me back.

XxXxXxX

"You better thank your lucky stars, young lady," Mom announces. Ignoring her comment, I head straight for the table. "Uncle Mark called your father, and now Dad's going to be gone all weekend. Your punishment is going to be pushed off until he gets back, so you better enjoy your last days of freedom."

Mom was born in Idabel, Oklahoma; she spent most of her life there, but when she was 12, her parents got a divorce, and her mother moved her, along with her two older brothers and older sister, to Tulsa. Shortly after I was born, Uncle Mark decided to move back to Idabel, and he's been there ever since.

"Oh." I answer, trying to contain my excitement. With the route that Dad usually takes, it takes nearly four hours to reach Uncle Mark's house. Knowing Uncle Mark, whatever project he has planned for Dad will take all weekend.

I'm a free woman until Monday, at least.

Mom heads to her mother's house around noon to help set up a retirement party my grandmother is throwing for one of her coworkers (Grandma works at the local clothing shop where they make clothes for the less fortunate). As for Imogene and Douglas, they leave shortly after Mom, and by 12:45, I'm left alone.

Although neither of my parents are home, I decide to work on my homework. Halfway through my math, I realize this might've helped me get back on their good side if I waited until Mom got home, but at the moment, I don't care. I'm bored beyond belief, and there's nothing else for me to do.

Around 2:00, I'm granted with company. After nearly having a heart attack, I hop up from my chair in the kitchen and gleefully run for the door – eager to be entertained by another individual.

Once I see who's on the other side, my mood heads south.

Jacquelyn sighs sadly, knowing exactly what I'm thinking. "Please, Eileen, before you slam the door in my face, can we talk?" Silently, I step out of the entrance, allowing her inside. Jacquelyn enters our house awkwardly, and in all honesty, it pains me to see how badly our friendship is being affected since I've decided to hang out with Sodapop and his friends.

"Do you want to go to my room?" I ask quietly. Jacquelyn shrugs her shoulders and turns towards me sluggishly. "I mean, no one is home, but I'd rather talk in there than out here in the open."

"That's fine with me then."

Jacquelyn takes a seat on my bed, and once my bedroom door is shut behind us, it almost feels like old times. The awkwardness definitely isn't consuming us anymore. "So, what do you want to talk about?" I ask, taking a seat at my desk. Jacquelyn sighs again, looking towards my comforter. She looks pained, and instantly, I realize how terrible of a friend I've been to her recently.

It breaks my heart.

"I want to apologize for how I acted towards you and your new friends yesterday," she frowns, weakly meeting my eyes. "I explained everything to my sister, and she made me realize that I was being a jerk to you. Then, I was thinking about everything you said about them, and you were right. Eileen, I'm really, really sorry for being so rude towards your friends. I'm sorry about everything you said."

"It's all right, Jackie," I answer, expressing a small smile. "Besides, you were right. They did get me in trouble already." Her appearance softens while her eyes widen in surprise. "Sodapop wanted me to sneak out last night, so I did, and he, along with Steve, went around the East side, stealing hubcaps off the cars. Mr Rivera ended up pulling us over, and even though he let those two off with a warning, he brought me home. I'm still waiting for my punishment."

"I don't think the consequences will be too bad," she shares. "Your parents are lenient, and we both know they're not one for grounding the three of you." I shrug my shoulders.

"I don't know about this time, Jacquelyn. Last week, my dad caught me skipping my afternoon classes, and he wasn't happy about that. Well then, Douglas and Imogene told them about how each of the greasers are, and my parents told me they don't want me to hang around them anymore, so I'm probably going to get into more trouble than if I snuck out to hang with you and Ellen."

"Did you hear that Ellen's moving?" Jackie inquires suddenly. My eyes enlarge as soon as she blurts it out. She nods in confirmation. "She told us a couple days ago. Her dad's job is transferring them to New York. They're leaving this weekend."

My face drops.

Jacquelyn and I have been best friends with Ellen ever since she transferred to public schooling in the sixth grade. Considering she was homeschooled all her life before, she had no friends, and no one made an effort to welcome her to the school. On the first day of school, we sat with her at lunch, and all three of us became best friends instantly.

"Hey, do you want to spend the night or something?"

XxXxXxX

After swinging by Jackie's house and grabbing her clothes, we decide to head off to the drive-in's weekly nightly double.

Considering we don't have a car, the two of us take a seat a couple rows back, sitting in the middle of the stands. Jacquelyn sets her overnight bag down beside her feet before looking around nervously. "What's the matter, Jackie?" I ask, watching her squirm uncomfortably in her seat. Her eyes meet mine before darting off to my right - silently telling me to look. "Oh."

"Do you know those boys?"

"No, I don't know them, but they don't look the nicest. I wouldn't worry about them, Jacquelyn. I highly doubt they're going to bother a group of middle class girls."

Jacquelyn tries to relax, and together, we attempt to enjoy the movie, but behind us, those greasers start making dirty comments about every girl in sight. It actually makes me sick when I overhear them talking about Jackie and I sexually.

XxXxXxX

Mom is surprised to see Jacquelyn at our house, but like usual, she welcomes her with open arms, and to be completely honest, I'm surprised I don't get in trouble for having company over considering the stunt from earlier this morning.

Sunday passes quickly, and before I know it, it's time for another week of school. Normally, I wouldn't mind, but now that I know I'm going to get in trouble makes me dread anything this day has to offer - no matter if it's good or bad.

I take my usual seat in algebra - near the window, towards the front - and much to my surprise, Steve Randle comes leisurely walking my way, looking as though he doesn't have a care in the world. "Hey," he greets plainly, dropping his book onto the table, creating a thud and earning him some nasty looks from other kids trying to work on other homework.

"What are you doing over here?" I ask curiously, genuinely shocked that, out of all the kids in the class, he's sitting by me. Steve shrugs his shoulders silently.

"I dunno," he finally answers. "I guess cause Daniel ain't here, and you're the only other kid in the class that I know. Is that gonna be a problem?" I shake my head, setting my pencil down. Steve flashes his trademark smirk, making me fear what the next thing he says is going to be about. "So, how'd your old man take to the fuzz bringin' ya home the other night." I roll my eyes, growing annoyed that he'd ask such a thing.

"Because of you two, I'm going to be grounded for the rest of my life. Both of my parents were beyond furious." I explain. "So, thanks a lot to you, Steve Randle." He continues staring at me with amusement evident all over his face.

"If you can't hang with us greasers, Princess, don't you think you should head back to your other friends?" I roll my eyes, ultimately letting him win. It's too early in the morning to be arguing with him.

XxXxXxX

It happens again in chemistry. Instead of sitting at his usual lab table, Steve strolls over to me, taking the empty seat. "Are you back to pick an argument with me? If you are, you might as well leave, I'm not in the mood to argue with you." He rolls his eyes, taking a seat beside me anyway.

"No, I ain't doin' too well in this class, and I was figurin' you'd help me since you seem to be real good friends with Soda." Steve answers, pulling his things out of his backpack.

"Oh, so, now you're using me?"

"No, I ain't!" Steve defends, huffing angrily. He looks annoyed - like usual. "Soda always tells the gang he thinks we should give you a chance, so here I am, tryna give you a damn chance, but you ain't workin' with me too well." He drops his battered up notebook on the table before turning to retrieve his lone pencil from inside his worn out backpack.

I turn towards the board, curiously watching our teacher write down today's warm-up. Once he's finished, he turns and with a self-satisfied smile on his face, our work is explained to us. "I want you to solve these problems. I'll give you ten extra minutes today, so use this time wisely." Mr Daley steps away from the front and heads silently for his desk.

Beside me, Steve mutters a couple swears and stares hard at the board, trying to figure out the foreign language written in chalk. "What the hell does this even say?" He asks cluelessly.

"How are you even in this class?"

"Shut up," he groans, rolling his eyes again. "Now, are you gonna help me or not?" I sigh loudly in defeat. Steve watches me, and once he realizes he's going to receive my help, he begins to smirk victoriously.

And I've never felt the urge to punch someone in the face until now.

XxXxXxX

It doesn't surprise me, really, that both of my parents are waiting for me as soon as I step through the door. Dad stands up from his seat on the couch, gesturing towards the empty seat with his right hand. "Welcome home, honey. Would you please come take a seat?" I drop my bag onto the ground, creating a loud thud, before dragging myself to the couch and my mother's side. My parents appear to be surprised that I don't fight them right then and there.

"Can we get this over with? I have a lot of homework to complete." I explain, bored and ready to receive my punishment for being nice to the less fortunate.

"Well, you paid no heed to us when we instructed you to stay away from those greasers, Eileen. You know how serious we were, and your mother and I think  
>you should get a week for that. As for sneaking out and being brought back home by the police, we think that adds an additional week and a half. Honey, you're grounded for two and a half weeks. You are to only roam to and from school for that time, and you aren't allowed to go anywhere else. Do I make myself clear?" I nod my head weakly. My punishment slowly sinks in, and I find myself wanting to cry. I've never known my parents to be this tough with scolding us, and frankly I don't like it. "Eileen, you're excused." I pull my numb body up from the couch before dragging myself down the hall.<p>

My life is officially over for the next two and a half weeks.

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><p>So, how do you feel about the Eileen  Steve interaction? Please don't be shy. Leave me a review! I love hearing what you guys think, and it gives me motivation to write. :)


	5. Follow My Heart

**Sixteen**  
><em>Chapter Five<em>

**Author's Note:** If any of you are familiar with my updating schedule, then you should recall that I normally post updates around 4:00 (on weekdays). Well, I think I'm going to bump my updates back an hour. Instead of 4:00, new chapters will come within 5:00 & 5:30 (more so closer to the hour). That way, I'll have more writing time between the ending of school and then, I won't feel as rushed. :)

Oooh, I hope you're all ready. This is a pretty big chapter! I'm excited to share it with all of you, and I hope you like it as much as I do. :)

Please, as soon as you finish reading, leave me some feedback. I love to hear from all of you, and after discovering the contents of this chapter, feedback will really help me get a general idea of what everyone thinks. Plus, I really appreciate when you guys get in touch, letting me know how I did.

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><p>It's nearing the beginning of November, and the burden of my punishment is finally lifted from my shoulders. I'm a free woman – free to do whatever I please.<p>

Over the last two weeks, I would be lying if I said my relationship with Steve hasn't been strengthening to something more than acquaintances. He's taken the liberty of sitting next to me everyday in algebra and chemistry, effectively making me feel obligated to help him with his academics.

Plus, he wouldn't be able to stare at me so fluently from a distance.

I'll be honest, I've caught him watching me a couple times, and sometimes, I'll spot him staring from the corner of my eye. Then, I'll look towards him, and he'll quickly look away. Although his staring can very well be harmless and unintentional, I can't help but wonder what his girl, Evie, would say about his wandering eyes.

XxXxXxX

Like usual, Steve takes a seat next to me in chemistry. His book falls to the metal lab table loudly, earning a few glares from the nerdy students – all of which fall blindly onto Steve. "I heard you n Sandy n Evie are gettin' together this weekend." He comments, taking a seat on the bar stool.

Over the course of my punishment, not only did I establish a better friendship with Steve, Sandy and I are quickly becoming close friends. We've talked to each other on the phone numerous times (one of the few privileges my parents didn't revoke), and a few days ago, she actually asked if I wanted to spend the night at her place.

Considering what happened last time I slipped away from my house unannounced, I asked my parents for their permission. Both of them remembered Sandy vividly, remembering the description Imogene left them with, and they saw no problem in allowing me to stay the night at her house – but on one condition. Mom, instigated by Dad, made me solemnly swear that I wouldn't be anywhere near Soda or Steve. I agreed, with my fingers crossed behind my back, and as soon as they saw my "sincerity", they eased up more with their decision – appearing more comfortable that I was hanging out with someone who isn't a JD.

And there was no way I was letting them know that Evie was also making an appearance at this shin dig.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" I ask while scribbling down the remaining touches to last night's homework, finally answering his question. Steve merely shrugs.

"I dunno," he answers. "I guess it's surprisin' and all that your parents are lettin' you hang out with 'em girls. I thought they said you weren't allowed to hang with us?"

"They did. Thanks to my older sister, but with the description that was provided for Sandy, my parents saw no problem with me going to her house."

"What 'bout Evie? There ain't no way in hell that your parents are okay with you bein' with Evie." Steve continues, pulling his notebook out from the depths of his backpack. His pencil falls silently onto the faded blue cover. Against my will, I start to grin maliciously.

"That's why I didn't tell them that Evie is going to be there," Steve starts to smirk. "If they knew she was going to be partaking in this get together, you're right. There's no way my parents would've been okay with any of this."

"Well, I'll be damned. I didn't think a smart, goody two shoes girl like you could be so sneaky and secretive." I shrug my shoulders in response to his statement.

"What can I say? There's a lot more to me than you know, Steve Randle." He laughs sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"I'll say."

XxXxXxX

"What time do you have to go home, Darling?" Grandma asks, sifting through a slightly wet cardboard box. "Do I have to take you home as well?" Silently, I take a seat on top of her dryer, watching her go through her belongings.

Right as soon as I woke up today, Mom and Dad decided to ship me off to Grandma's. Neither of them were very clear as to why I was coming to her house, I think it's to help her tidy up, but even Grandma is being vague with why I'm here. Whenever I ask her a question, she never clearly answers it, and she immediately starts a new conversation before I can prod for more information. That's not unusual for her, though, Grandma has always been this way. But while I was confused and oblivious with their decision, Imogene was downright annoyed. As soon as she found out what was going down, she wasn't too keen with the idea of bringing me over to Grandma's house.

She even got into a little argument with my parents.

To say it was amusing would be an understatement.

"I think Imogene is going to pick me up around 5:00," I answer slowly, mesmerized by the antiques Grandma is pulling from within the box. "I'm not too sure. I'll have to call my mother later." With her hands pressing firmly into her lower back, Grandma stands up. When she turns around to face me, her face drops in disapproval.

"Honey, get down from that dryer," she scolds. "That thing is so old, who know what'll happen, and I don't want you to somehow get hurt." I nod my head, hopping off from the top. "Thank you, Dear."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"All right, Honey. Are you ready to start working on this mess of a house?" Grandma starts heading towards her bedroom. With another quick nod, I follow behind her.

"Yes, Ma'am."

Douglas picks me around 5:30 – half an hour later than when I was suppose to be picked up. His girlfriend, Elaine, resides in the front seat, leaving me with the joys of the riding solo in the backseat. "Where does your friend live?" Doug asks, driving towards the East side. I ramble off her address nervously, silently fearing that it might be wrong. "I can't believe they're letting you stay with Sandy tonight after what happened a few weeks ago." Douglas grumbles, locating her house.

Pulling hard on the handle, the door swings open. As I step out onto the Griffin's nicely manicured lawn, I can hear Elaine prying for information on a topic that doesn't even concern her.

In my opinion, Elaine is like The Beatles – a little bit goes a long way. And I'll leave my thought at that.

XxXxXxX

Evie picks silently at her fingernails, acting completely oblivious to Sandy and me and her surroundings in general. Sandy stops abruptly in the middle of her sentencing, frowning slightly; she redirects her attention towards Evie. "You okay, Evie? You're awful quiet over there," Evie sighs sadly, shrugging her shoulders in response. "C'mon. Talk to us. We ain't gonna tell anyone, and you can trust us." Evie looks at me, searching for a guarantee that what she discloses won't be repeated. Quickly, I nod. Evie sighs again – this one proves to be more dramatic than the last.

"I ain't too sure what to do with Steve." She admits quietly, looking helplessly at her hands. She bites her bottom lip nervously, silently wondering how to continue. Sandy stares in confusion.

"I don't understand what you mean, Eve."

"I don't know, Sandy. I don't know what to do," she groans loudly, irritated with herself. "I love Steve. I mean, I always will, but I don't feel like this relationship is worth anything anymore. I don't feel like either of us are into it like we were when we first started dating, and I dunno. I don't feel like he's satisfyin' my needs and stuff." She stops, weakly looking up to meet Sandy's eyes. "Brian Antisdale asked me out for tomorrow night, and I told him yes. I feel terrible doin' this to Steve, and I think I'm gonna to break up with him soon. I think we're both itchin' to get out there and start seein' new people. I mean, I find myself lookin' at other guys, and it's sure as hell obvious that Steve has taken an interest in her." Evie sighs exasperated, throwing her hand out towards me. Sandy sits silently; I avert my eyes downward, focusing hard on a crack in the hardwood flooring.

I feel guilty. I feel as though I'm a factor to their dwindling relationship, but it's not like I asked Steve to take an interest in me. That was all of his doing – leaving me with no reason to feel bad.

I repeat this thought to myself several times, but it fails to decrease the guilt my body seems to be submerged in. I dwell on this idea; slowly, I'm drowning in guilt. I'm succumbing to the feeling.

Evie sighs again, bringing me back to my reality. She stares blankly at me, but deep within her eyes, I can see pain. Evie looks pained. "Don't feel bad," she comments, picking up on my emotions. "It's ain't your fault, Eileen. Trust me. I've been dealin' with this long before you came along." I swallow hard, searching hard for the strength I need to address the topic at hand.

"Are you sure?"

"Mmhmm," Evie hums, forcing a smile. "We've run our course, and I think it's time Steve and I came to an end." Sandy frowns, staring blankly at her floor.

"I could never imagine leaving Soda."

XxXxXxX

"I'm bored, Sandy," Evie whines, hanging upside down of the bed. Sandy grins sweetly, ignoring Evie as she continues to paint her nails. "Can we go somewhere? I'm hungry too. Let's go to The Dingo." My eyes widen nervously upon hearing her suggestion.

"Wait," I comment. "Did a girl get stabbed there once?"

"She didn't get stabbed. She was shot," Sandy answers, failing to meet my eyes. "But that was a couple years ago, and it hardly did any damage."

"Sandy, what the hell are you talkin' 'bout?" Evie inquires, sitting up. With her long, sandy brown locks a mess, she twists around to face Sandy and me. "It barely missed her heart. She had to get a lot of blood replaced, and she nearly died." Sandy's face drops, and it looks as though she's seen a ghost.

"Dallas said that she didn't get badly injured!" Evie snorts, closing her eyes and shaking her head slowly.

"Ain't you realized that Dallas is a lyin' sack of shit half the time?"

Evie and Sandy lead the way towards The Dingo with me following behind them like a lost puppy. "I've never gone to The Dingo," I comment, straining to past their heads – the struggles of being short. "We're not going to get hurt, are we?" Evie shakes her head confidently.

"As long as you mind your own business and don't mess with no one you don't know, you'll be fine."

XxXxXxX

Lying silently on Sandy's bedroom floor, staring at the ceiling, I think back to what happened at The Dingo. Sodapop and Steve showed up, and while Soda and Sandy looked comfortable together, Steve and Evie looked stiff and awkward – thinking back on it, I wonder how I was oblivious to it to begin with.

"Eileen, are you still awake?" Evie whispers, loud enough to be heard over Sandy's snoring. I answer with nothing more than a hum, and for a second, I wonder if she actually heard me. "Sandy was right. You ain't too bad, Eileen. You ain't too bad. Do you think you'd be willin' to give me another chance to be friends and all?" Staring at her ceiling, I can't help but smile. I never thought I'd see the day where Evie Kline was asking to be my friend.

"Yeah, Evie. I'd like that a lot."

XxXxXxX

On Tuesday, Steve misses out on algebra. I dismiss it, assuming he's going to show up halfway through the class like he's known to do.

But when he fails to attend chemistry, I know he's gone for the day.

Although I won't admit it to his face, I'm upset. Without him, I have no one to talk to, and he never fails to entertain me. I find it amusing how he can never grasp the concepts of chemistry, and his negative comments directed towards the class, Mr Daley and the assignments are funnier than they shoulder be.

It makes me pretty eager for tomorrow – when I can see him again.

With a dull thud, my pencil hits my chemistry table, shattering the silence surrounding my hardworking classmates. My eyes widen drastically as the realization sinks in. My heart starts to race as I come to terms with my new discovery. Never in a million years did I imagine this would happen.

I've got a crush on Steve Randle.

* * *

><p>I understand that I seem more needy for reviews. But this chapter contained a couple major plot points that'll play along with the rest of the story, and I would like to know how I did. :)<p>

Please, if you're reading this note, take a couple seconds out of your day to let me know how this chapter was. It'll really help me get an idea as to what everyone thinks, and I will REALLY appreciate it. So, please, review.

For the sake of this story, please review. Do it for Johnny. ;)

**PS -** I should make it clear that I don't hate The Beatles. They're very talented, and I'll admit that they have some good songs. The implied negative reference was merely for the sake of the story.


	6. Beat of My Heart

**Sixteen**  
><em>Chapter Six<em>

**Author's Note:** Hello, Everyone! I hope you're having (or had) a fabulous Friday! I hope you're ready for another installment of this story. I'm excited to share this chapter with you because some pretty exciting stuff happens. :)

When you get done, I would really appreciate if you all review / follow / favorite. It would mean a lot!

* * *

><p>Steve reclaims his seat beside me in chemistry, and like usual, he looks as though he despises the world; the only difference is that today, he looks ten times angrier. "What's crawled up your butt and died?" I tease, beginning my warm up. Steve groans loudly and rolls his eyes. Without even knowing it, he confirms my assumption.<p>

Evie broke up with him.

"Nothin' I can't handle," he grumbles. "Evie broke up with me on Monday. She says she ain't feelin' nothin' between us no more."

"Well," I sigh awkwardly, desperately searching for the right thing to say. "All great things come to an end, but don't worry. Someday, you'll find the one that's right for you." I praise myself, proud that I came up with such a response on the spot.

Steve doesn't appreciate my answer as much though.

In response, he rolls his eyes, muttering something incoherent under his breath. "That ain't the problem," Steve answers. "The problem is she wanted me to take her to that dance this Friday, so I bought a ticket. Well, now what the hell am I suppose to do with it? That stupid thing was five dollars." A few swear words slip. "You goin'?" I shrug my shoulders, shaking my head slowly.

"No, dances aren't really my thing."

"Well, if I asked ya to go with me, would you?" Steve inquires, looking towards me. "I ain't itchin' to go and be by my lonesome all night." My heart skips a beat. So badly, I want to agree right there and there's only one thing stopping me.

Evie.

Sure, the two of them broke up, but she said it herself. She'll always love Steve. Knowing that, I'm left oblivious to how she'll react if she catches us together on Friday. We're finally friends, and I'm not too eager to ruin our friendship.

"I'm not too sure, Steve." I answer nervously, mentally throwing myself into the sun. Deep down, I pray that he'll beg me, but he's not the type.

"C'mon, what else do you have to do on a Friday night?"

"Well," I sigh, knowing he's right. "I don't really have anything planned for Friday night."

"That's what I thought," Steve smirks. "So, will you go to the dance with me?" Emitting a sigh full of mixed emotions, I nod my head. Steve relaxes, almost as though he's relieved.

On the inside, I pray – pray that Evie won't hate me after this stunt.

XxXxXxX

Grabbing a tight hold on Sandy's arm, I rush her off to the bathroom, calling over my shoulder to Steve, Soda and the rest of the group that we'll be back soon. Unintentionally, I catch a glimpse of Evie, and I start to feel even worse for agreeing to go the dance with Steve.

She sandwiched in between Two-Bit and Sylvia, and instead of participating in their conversation, she's pushing her food around blankly with a fork – almost as if her mental state in somewhere else.

With a dejected sigh, I turn back around, continuing my journey to the bathroom.

"What do you need, Eileen?" Sandy asks, stepping into the restroom, ignoring the glares from the rich girls. One of the girls blow past me, pushing me out of the way, with her cronies following close behind.

"Sandy, I feel bad," I answer truthful. "I mean, you've seen Evie today at lunch? She looks so upset." Sandy frowns slightly, knowing what I'm getting at.

"You don't have to feel bad. She broke up with Steve. It wasn't the other way around. To be honest, I ain't sure what her problem is. She probably got inta another fight with her older sister."

"It's not only that," I sigh. "This morning in chemistry, Steve asked me to go to the dance with him, and I don't know, Sandy. I said yes, but now I'm afraid Evie is going to hate me. I don't know what to do." Sandy starts to grin.

"You're goin' to the dance with Steve," she repeats cheekily. "I never thought I'd see you goin' on a date with a greaser. Let alone, Steve Randle." I cross my arm over my chest, rolling my eyes at her childish behavior.

"That's not the point."

"I don't know why you're so afraid. Evie ain't gonna care. She broke up with him." I emit a heavy breath, indicating my increasing frustration.

"But at your house she told us that she's always going to love him." I reason. Sandy goes straight faced.

"So?"

"So? Sandy! What if she sees us together? What if she realizes she wants to be with Steve again, but I'll be there, preventing that. What if she decides she doesn't like me?" Sandy rolls her eyes at my antics.

"I still think you're overreactin'. Eileen, don't you 'member what she said? She's been havin' these thoughts long before you joined our group. She ain't gonna care." I bite my bottom lip, thinking hard about her reasoning.

"I guess you're right." I mutter, ultimately admitting my defeat. Once again, Sandy starts to smile.

"Good!" She squeals happily, reaching for my hand. "You should come over Friday after school, and we can get ready for the dance together, and then Steve and Soda can pick us up from my house. Are you in?" Her smile grows, consuming her whole face. I nod my head, a grin of my own emerging.

"Yeah, that sounds like a lot of fun."

XxXxXxX

Surprisingly, Friday comes fast, and after school, Sandy and I begin our walk to my house, to grab my things for the dance and to spend the night.

Jacquelyn walks with us, and thankfully, her and Sandy hit it off fast. "So, are you going to the dance tonight, Jackie?" I ask curiously, watching the sidewalk for any raised pieces of concrete. Beside me, she shrugs her shoulders.

"I haven't decided yet," she shares. "I don't have anyone to go with, and I'll probably be by myself." Sandy's ears perk up at the idea of being able to play matchmaker.

"Don't worry, Jacquelyn..."

"Sandy!" I laugh, shaking my head. "Leave my friend alone!" She rolls her eyes playfully right as we reach Jackie's house. She shares a quick goodbye before hurrying to the door.

"Are your folks gonna be home?"

"I'm not too sure actually. My mom will be home because it's her day off, but I don't know about my dad." I explain.

"Are you nervous?"

"About what?"

"You know. Your parents. Your mom. She's goin' to be meeting me. Ain't they not fond of you hanging with us?"

"They like you. They're not too fond of Steve, Soda, Evie, Dallas, Sylvia and Two-Bit. My older brother and sister enlightened my parents of their typical behaviors and personalities."

"So, they have no idea that you're goin' to the dance with Steve?" I shake my head. "Ooh, so, you're decidin' to be sneaky again? Even though y'all got caught by the fuzz last time?" I nod my head, smiling as the night comes to the front of my mind.

"You better not tell my mom about Steve either!" Sandy raises her hands defensively, failing to hold back an evil, teasing smirk. "I'm serious, Sandy!" I laugh, leading her up the walkway to my house.

"Your secret is safe with me, Eileen. But if your mom asks, I'm gonna have to be truthful." She jokes. I push open the door, stepping into the house.

"Mom, I'm home!"

"I'm in the kitchen!" Mom calls. Sandy follows behind me like a lost puppy as I navigate our way to my mom.

Inside, she's putting dishes away, and once the tile squeaks underneath our shoes, she turns around. Once Mom sees Sandy, she starts to smile. "You must be Sandy."

"Yes, Ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you." Sandy laces her fingers together, smiling sweetly at my mother.

"I'm going to go grab my things." I whisper, slipping behind Sandy and heading for my room.

Thankfully I packed last night.

XxXxXxX

"Sandy, do I look okay?" I turn around slowly in front of her mirror, desperately trying to look my very best.

Without her knowing, I stole one of Imogene's dresses from when she was going through her rebellious phase.

Its sleeves, made of lace, stop at my elbows while the top looks like a regular, white tank top, decorated with lace - much similar to the sleeves. Meanwhile, a black belt separate the navy blue, knee length shirt from the white lace.

Although the skirt is shorter than my parents' liking, it's a really cute dress.

Sandy looks up from painting her nail, and with a satisfied smile, she nods approvingly. "You look great. Are you going to paint your nails?"

"Do you have white?"

"Do the soc ruin our lives?"

"Where's it at?"

"Right here," She tosses me the bottle before touching up her nails. I take a seat on her floor and begin. "Hey, want me to do your makeup?" I nod my head, silently praying I don't completely mess this up.

Fifteen minutes later, Sandy finishes putting makeup on me. I'm granted with a couple seconds to look at myself before her older sister calls, announcing that our dates have arrived.

Sandy sequels, tossing her makeup bag onto her bed. With me following behind her, she hurries out of her room. I move at a slower pace, hoping I don't kill myself in the heels.

Something else I stole from Imogene.

Soda and Steve wait patiently for us at the door. Steve stands silently, hands shoved into the pockets of his dress pants. Soda eagerly waits for his date, and when his eyes land on her, his jaw drops. "Oh, wow. Sandy, you look absolutely beautiful." He shares breathlessly. She starts to blush, mumbling stuff to him under her breath.

He extends his arm; Sandy takes his arm in her hands before following him to Steve's truck. Soon, Steve and I are left alone.

"Hey." I greet happily.

"Hey, you ready to go?" He asks, like Soda, he holds out his arm. I link mine together with him, allowing him to lead me to his truck.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't sad - sad that he didn't compliment me like Soda did with Sandy.

Sandy and I squeeze in between both boys. It's uncomfortable, but I don't think she minds too much; it gives her an excuse to press against Soda, and honestly, I don't think he minds too much either.

As for Steve and me, I'm not too sure how I, and he, feel about this.

Our ride lasts a whole 10 minutes, plus another five to find a parking place. And as soon as Steve shuts the truck off, Sand and Soda are gone - leaving both of us alone. "Did you ever get a ticket?" I shake my head.

"No, but I planned on buying one at the door."

"Aight," he answers, opening the door. "We should prolly get goin' though. You ready?" Steve steps out of his truck, oblivious to my head nod.

"Can you dance?"

"Nope," he shares, turning around. Steve reaches for my hands, helping me out of his truck. "Can you?"

"Well, not exactly." I sigh, carefully stepping to the ground. Steve continue holding my right hand, after dropping my left one, we head towards the school.

Before I can protest, Steve has his wallet out, handing the lady my ticket fee. Once we're through, I hit him lightly. "Why'd you pay for my ticket? I had enough money." Steve starts to smirk.

"I felt like bein' nice today."

XxXxXxX

We stand in a corner, against a wall, for a reason unknown to me, but honestly, it doesn't bother me. I didn't even want to come to this stupid dance. "So, you two just gonna stand here all night, and be lame?" I look towards the source of the voice; it's only Soda and Sandy.

"Come on, you two have to dance for least a coupla songs." Sandy smiles. Soda nods in agreement. In response, Steve shakes his head.

"Make him dance with ya, Eileen," Soda advises. "Don't let him stand like a bump on a log in the corner."

"Will do, Sodapop,"" He grabs Sandy's hand and whisks her away to another section of the gym. "C'mon, Steve. Let's go dance. You're wasting your money otherwise." I grab onto his hand, and to my surprise, Steve follows me with ease.

"I already told ya that I can't dance," he warns. "I hope you don't mind me makin' a fool out of ya."

"I'm already going to make a fool out of myself without your help, so I guess we don't have anything to lose."

Steve twirls me around in the middle of one of the few slow songs. "You look nice tonight, Eileen," Steve smirks, breaking my spin. He pulls me closer, sealing the space between us.

My heart picks up speed; before long, it's pounding hard against my chest. I can feel the thin sheet of sweat forming underneath my hands, and I can hardly comprehend that I'm this close to him. No longer am I able to hold back the smile fighting to break through.

"You clean up nicely too, Steve Randle."

Right as the song ends, he drops his hands and steps back. "Stay right here, I have to go take a leak." I cross my arms over my chest, rolling my eyes at his word choice. Steve chuckles, punching my shoulder lightly before hurrying off.

Evie takes note of my loneliness because seconds after Steve's departure, she's at my side.

My eyes widen; my mouth drops; I don't doubt that I look like I've seen a ghost. Evie smiles, laughing quietly and shaking her head. "You can relax, Eileen," she grins. "I'm not mad that you're at the dance with Steve. Remember? I broke up with him. Besides, I had a gut feelin' that he was gonna ask you to go with him."

"I'm glad," I smile, laughing unevenly. "I don't know if Sandy told you or not, but when he asked me, I was really afraid of how you'd react." Evie nods.

"Yeah, she told me."

"So, who's the lucky lad that had the opportunity to bring you to this dance?" I inquire, nudging her side. Evie chuckles, staring at the floor.

"You remember how I was tellin' you n Sandy 'bout Brian Antisdale takin' me out on a date last weekend, right?" I nod slowly. "Our date went so well that he asked me that evenin' to come to the dance with him. I couldn't say no, Eileen. He's such a sweet kid. It's a real shame he comes from such a broken home."

"It breaks my heart to hear some of their stories."

"You get use to it," she shares. Evie looks towards me with a smirk all too similar to Steve's. "You n Steve are real cute together, you know that?" I feel my cheeks heat up, and thankfully the gymnasium is dark, hiding my multi-shaded face from Evie. "I'm serious, Eileen. You two are real cute, and he sure look damn happy with you. You can see it in his eyes. I think he's fallin' hard for ya."

"Evie, you can't be serious."

"I'm dead serious."

"Quit lying."

"I ain't lyin'."

Before I have another chance to speak, someone approaches my side, wrapping their arm around my waist. Evie's mood turns sour instantly, and once I see the nasty glare Steve's sending off, I don't blame her. I nudge him, silently telling him to straighten up.

He doesn't listen. Evie rolls her eyes and turns, no doubt heading back to her date.

"She wasn't causin' you no trouble, was she?" He asks sternly, keeping his attention fixed on her back.

"No, Steve. She wasn't causing me any trouble."

* * *

><p>So, thoughts? I hope you're all right with me including him asking her to the dance &amp; the dance in the same chapter. I couldn't think of anything to push the dance off until the next chapter!<p>

If you would take a minute out of your day to review, I would really appreciate it. I love hearing what you guys say, and like I said last chapter, some big stuff happened, so it'd be nice to know how you all think I did. :)


	7. Livin' on a Prayer

**Sixteen Candles**  
><em>Chapter Seven<em>

**Author's Note:** So, in case you're wondering, I did, indeed, change the title of this story. I wasn't digging the other title, and at the moment, I like this one a little more. This probably won't be temporary, and if I happen to change the title again, I'll definitely let you all know. Most likely, I won't, but honestly, who knows.

I'm fully aware that I told you guys that I would update around 5:00, but something came up, so I hope you don't mind me updating now. As for the week between chapters, I hope you don't mind that too. Instead of updating every other day, I'm thinking about making my updates weekly. It'll buy me a few more days to complete chapters.

Well, here's chapter seven. Although the other members of the gang have failed to make an appearance in this story yet, you finally get a little Ponyboy action. I hope you guys are excited! :) When you finish reading, a review / follow / favorite would be highly appreciated - it tells me you're enjoy my story!

* * *

><p>Our dance draws to a close, and with the way Soda and Sandy are hanging onto each other, it's clear to me they don't want to separate from each other.<p>

And if I'm being honest with myself, I'm wouldn't mind more time with Steve.

"Hey!" Soda exclaims, slowing to a stop. With his arm still around Sandy, he turns around to face Steve and me. "I think I know where we can go." Sodapop starts to grin. Steve cocks an eyebrow, and to say I'm not even a little curious would be a lie.

"Where?" Sandy asks eagerly, looking up happily at her boyfriend.

"Steve, we should take our ladies to our old tree house."

"Glory, Soda, we ain't been there since 5th grade. It'll be amazin' if we can still find the old thing," Soda raises an eyebrow, waiting for Steve's answer. "Let's go." Steve grins. Sodapop smiles in approval, and together, we head for the truck.

"You're gonna love our tree house, Sandy," Soda shares. "You too, Eileen. My dad built it when we were in like second grade, and we always you to go play with our plastic soldiers there. You 'member that, Steve? We use to keep 'em in that wooden box Darry made for us in his woodshop class."

"Yeah, we wasted so much money on 'em things."

Our truck ride draws to a close fifteen minutes later. I stare at the dark woods, fearful for what lurks inside. Soda and Steve start to climb out; Sandy follows close behind Soda, and once they're both out, they start heading for the edge of the trees. "You comin'?" Steve asks, staring at me through the open door. I nod my head weakly.

"We're not going to get hurt or anything in there, are we?"

"Nothing is gonna hurt you, but I dunno 'bout your feet. You ain't exactly wearin' woods walkin' 'ppropriate shoes." I sigh, climbing out of his truck anyway. He gingerly takes my hand, guiding me towards the trees. With Sandy and Soda by our side, we head off to find their old tree house.

Sandy and Soda claim a side of the tree house, leaving Steve and me with the other side. I look up; through a hole in the ceiling, you can clearly see the stars twinkling in the navy blue, velvet sky. "Wow." I comment in awe. Steve slings his arm around my shoulders, looking up to see what has captured my attention.

"How come you've never brought me here before, Soda?" Sandy asks, leaning against him. Soda sighs peacefully, directing his attention towards the stars.

"I forgot 'bout it 'til tonight." He shares softly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Steve brings me closer, sealing the space between us. Slowly, I allow my head to drop onto his shoulder; when he shows no sign of pushing me away, I relax.

At this moment, my life is nothing but perfect.

XxXxXxX

"So," Steve hesitates. "I ain't too sure 'bout you, but I had a good time." He swallows hard, and it appears to me that he's about to be consumed alive with nerves. It serves as a shock to me. I don't imagine Steve being one to succumb to nerves so easily, and I never thought I would be the reason he's so nervous.

It's almost like a personal victory for me.

"Can I call you?" He looks towards me, waiting for an answer. I nod my head slowly, biting hard on my lip to keep from squealing due to the mass amount of joy I'm experiencing. "There should be a, um, pen in the there. There should be a napkin too, but I ain't too sure." I reach forward, pulling on the handle. The drawer falls open, and like Steve said, there's a pen right on top.

"Here, let me see your hand," Steve presents his hand to me, and as best as I can, I scribble down my phone number. "There you go, Steve Randle." He pulls his hand back, looking over my writing. A slight smile forms on his face as I direct my attention towards the house. "I should probably go though. Sandy's going to be wondering where I am." Soda is slowly walking back to the truck with a dreamy, love struck look in his eyes.

XxXxXxX

"I wanna see you again," Steve announces, staring down at me. I bite my tongue, meeting his eyes. "Outside of school."

"Yeah, me too."

"So, I guess I'll see ya Monday," instantly, my world stops. Steve leans down. My heart picks up speed; the pressure applied to my tongue increases. For a minute, I think he's going to actually kiss me. For a minute, I can't believe it.

Instead, his kisses my cheek.

Either way, I'm on cloud nine.

Inside the house, I shut the door behind me, and almost instantly, Sandy has her arms wrapped around me tightly. "Wasn't tonight amazing, Eileen?" She cries. I nod my head, wrapping my arms around her waist. Both of us start jumping around, giggling and squealing over tonight.

In the front room, her older sister and younger brother are staring at us weirdly.

I don't blame them. We probably resemble preteens in junior high.

Sandy pulls away from me abruptly. She grabs on tightly to my hand before dragging me to her room; I nearly kill myself heading up the stairs.

Once we're secure inside her room, Sandy slams the door shut. Despite the fact that she's wearing a skirt, she launches herself stomach-down onto her bed. "Are you two an item now?" Sandy asks happily, referring to Steve and me. I roll my eyes, shaking my head slowly. "Aw! Why not?"

"Sandy!" I laugh. "This was the first date we've been on, and honestly, it wasn't even a date. But guess what." I fail to hold back a smile. "He asked for my number, and he wants to take me out again." Her blue eyes widen.

"Eileen! I can't believe this! You two are perfect for each other. You need to see each other again soon! You guys need to start dating immediately! You're so cute together." Sandy rolls onto her back, staring at the ceiling.

"That's what Evie said too."

"What?"

"I didn't tell you?"

"No."

"Well, I don't know where to begin." I sigh, running a hand through my hair. Sandy rolls onto her side, waiting for me to proceed.

"Was the whole thing awkward?"

"No, not really," I shrug. "Steve wandered off, and once he was gone, Evie came over to me. I thought she was going to be mad at me, but she wasn't. She was actually accepting of it, and I can't believe how friendly she was considering I was there with her ex. She even told me that Steve and I were cute together." Sandy starts to smile.

"Well, that's not too bad."

"Then, Steve came back," Sandy frowns, leading me to believe she knows what's to come next. "I don't know what happened, but they were bitter towards each other. Steve was giving her dirty looks, and Evie was giving him some too. I don't like how bitter they are with each other. A month ago, they were so in love with each other, and now, it's like they can't stand the sight of each other."

"I'm sure you've noticed Evie isn't afraid to give you a taste of your own medicine," Sandy comments. I nod my head slowly. "I can tell you for sure that she doesn't hate Steve, but he's bitter over the break up. It's Steve. It don't take much to make him sour, but he was treatin' her like dirt, so she was doin' it back to him. He'll get over it, Eileen, and I bet everythin' will go back to normal in a couple weeks."

"I sure hope so. I don't like it."

XxXxXxX

After we change into our pajamas, we make ourselves comfortable on her bed and get ready to share our night at the dance. "Soda talked me into sneaking into an open classroom," she explains. "We ended up making-out. I never thought that would happen to me, and I felt rebellious." I snort loudly.

"Yes, Sandy, you better watch yourself, so you don't do something more serious like get changed in a public restroom." She scowls, throwing a pillow at me. I raise my hands, protecting my face, while laughing harder.

"You know what I mean, Eileen!"

"I'm just giving you a hard time!"

"I'd like to know what you and Steve did all night!"

"We stood in a corner, and after you and Soda were teasing us about it, we went and danced for a little bit. After the Evie situation, we went to get something to drink. I watched him nearly get into a fight with a soc. It was a typical high school dance." This time, Sandy snorts.

"That sounds real fun."

"It's not like we've been dating for like ever."

"But still," she comments. "It's a dance, and you had a date. Any other greaser couple would be in a corner, shoving their tongues down each other's throats!" I roll my eyes, disgusted by the mental image.

"In case you forgot, I'm not a greaser." I share, trying to hold back a grin. I throw the pillow back at her, hitting Sandy right in the face. I start laughing; Sandy doesn't look amused. Before long, she starts to grin.

"You suck."

XxXxXxX

"We're playing truth or dare," Sandy declares, falling onto our bed of blankets. "Do you wanna go first, or do you want me to?"

"Sandy, there are only two of us. It's not going to be very fun." She shrugs her shoulders, staring down at me.

"So? That ain't never stopped Evie and me," she shares. "Do you wanna go first or do you want me to?"

"I'll go first. Sandy, truth or dare?" Sandy falls onto her back, thinking hard about what she choice she wants to make.

"Truth."

"Dang it. I was expecting you to say dare," I close my eyes, thinking hard for something to ask her. Within seconds, something comes to mind. I open my eyes, looking right into hers. "Would you ever cheat on Soda?" Sandy's face drops; quickly, she starts shaking her head.

"No!" She cries. "But now it's my turn to ask you. Eileen, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"What's the biggest lie you've ever told your parents?"

"Once, I got into a fight with a girl, and of course, my brother told on me. Well, I lied and told my parents that he was only saying that to save his butt because he failed some test he had. They believed it, and my brother was grounded for a week," Sandy starts to giggle. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?" Sandy sighs; I start to smirk – this is going to be good.

"Well, if you don't know, I'm originally from Florida. Shortly before seventh grade, my parents decided to move to Tulsa. On the first day of school, it was my time of the month, so long story short, a little item fell onto the floor, and everyone saw. They were laughing at me, and I was so embarrassed." She buries her face in her hands, shaking her head slowly. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

Sandy takes a moment, thinking hard about a dare. Before long, a wicked little grin appears on her face. "I dare you to call Soda's house, ask for Ponyboy and pretend to be in love with him."

"Where's the phone?"

XxXxXxX

Sandy sits close to me, trying desperately to hear the phone. It rings a few times, and I'm starting to think no one will answer. After all, it's almost midnight.

On the fifth ring, someone finally answers.

"Hello, this is the Curtis residence." Sandy starts giggling uncontrollably, resulting in my pushing her away, so she doesn't blow my cover.

"Hello, is Ponyboy there?" I ask, twirling the phone cord around my finger.

"Yes, he is," the deep voice asks. "May I ask who's calling?" My eyes widen, and I look at Sandy, desperate for her help.

"Um, tell him it's his secret admirer," I slap a hand to my forehead, shaking my head slightly. "I can't believe you talked me into doing this, Sandy. What if we get caught?" She waves me off, rolling her eyes.

"We ain't gonna get caught, Eileen. Stop worryin' so much, and have a little fun."

"H-Hello?" Someone asks. My eyes widen again once I realize it's probably Pony. "Who is t-this?" I take a deep breath, trying to relax.

"That's not important," I whisper. Next to me, Sandy starts to laugh really hard while I swear at myself; it, unintentionally, sounds like I'm trying to seduce this kid. "Just know that I think you're grand. I think you're awfully cute, and I wish you would talk to me."

"I-I don't know w-who this is," I bite my lip, successfully finding the humor in this. Although it's pretty cruel, it's also pretty funny how nervous he sounds. If I wasn't starting to enjoy myself, I would feel absolutely terrible. "Who is t-this?"

"Ponyboy, it's not important." I sigh. In the background, I can hear Soda announcing that Pony's cheeks are a bright red. Before I know it, I'm no longer talking to Ponyboy; instead, I'm about to step into a conversation with someone else – someone I wasn't expecting.

"Who is this?" It's someone I don't recognize. "You're makin' my kid brother awful uncomfortable. I think you should probably lay off him." Starting to panic, I pull the phone away from my ear. I end the call before tossing the phone onto the floor.

"Whoa, what happened?" Sandy asks, reaching for the phone.

"Someone else answered," I explain. "He didn't sound too thrilled that we were making his brother uncomfortable. Why didn't you tell me he had another brother?" Sandy merely shrugs.

"I didn't think they'd intervene."

XxXxXxX

"Do you feel better?" I ask, watching Steve take a seat next to me in algebra. He looks confused. "When you asked me for my number, you looked really nervous." He rolls his eyes, giving me the impression that he's going to deny it.

And that's exactly what he does.

"I ain't too sure what you're talkin' 'bout, Doll Face," he shares, using the nickname he knows I hate. "I was calm, cool and collected. Nervous ain't nothing to me." I groan loudly, letting him know I don't buy his story.

"Apparently neither is proper English."

"'Pparently neither is proper English." Steve mocks, rolling his eyes. Annoyed with the fact that he mocked me, I push him away from me.

"Knock it off, Steve."

"I'd like to see you make me, Eileen," He winks with a smirk trailing behind it. I shake my head, burying my face in my hands. "What's wrong, Doll Face?"

"That's disgusting."

XxXxXxX

Steve managed to distract me the whole period, leaving me without a clue as to how to do my homework. Steve wasn't much help either, and our teacher, Mr Mucha, was fully aware of the antic that had occurred, so he refused when I asked for his help after school.

I look around my kitchen desperately, longing for Imogene to magically appear from the hallway. Heck, I'll even take Doug. I just want someone that's done this stuff before. Sadly, realizing my hopes won't come true, I bow my head, taking another look at my homework. Occasionally, I mutter a few swears towards Steve – a rarity for me.

I'm very thankful when the phone starts ringing.

I leap up from my seat, darting for the phone. I nearly trip over my feet, and although I'm alone, I decide to make myself look a little more presentable before answering. I run my fingers through my hair, and on the fourth ring, I answer.

"Hello, this is the Beasley residence."

"Hey, it's Steve. You busy?"

"No," I answer, leaning against the wall. "I'm trying to do my algebra, but I have no idea what I'm doing because you decided it'd be fun to distract me." Steve starts to chuckle.

"You busy this weekend?" I'm trying to remain annoyed with him, but I can't help it; I find myself starting to smile.

"N-No, not that I know of," I stammer, wiping my palm on my skirt. "Why?"

"I was wonderin' if you wanna go out this weekend. We could go to the Nightly Double or we could go to a restaurant." I bite my lip, trying to contain my growing excitement.

"Yeah, that sounds like fun."

"I guess I'll let you go, so you can go continue with your homework. I'll see you tomorrow in algebra, Eileen." I sigh, internally debating with myself over what I should do. Before I can think twice, I'm voicing my inner thoughts.

"Steve, wait, don't go," I say. "Do y-you understand how to do the homework?"

"I dunno, I ain't actually looked at the homework yet."

"Can you look?"

"I guess," He groans. Steve sets the phone down, creating a loud noise, before heading off. Finally, after a few moments, he comes back. "Nope. I ain't got a clue on how to do it."

"Well, can you come over anyway?"

"I'm on my way."

* * *

><p>I'll admit, I'm a little nervous with some of the things that happened. I'll spare you the time and not go into details.<p>

Please. I would LOVE to hear from every single one of you. I would really appreciate if you guys left a review, telling me what you thought of this chapter. Your feedback gives me motivation to write. :)


	8. No One Like You

**Sixteen Candles**  
><em>Chapter Eight<em>

**Author's Note:** Oh, Man. I'm so sorry for the delay in between this chapter and the last. A couple weekends ago, I was sick, and I was seriously too tired to function. And this previous weekend, I spent it with a relative.

On a serious note though, I'm losing motivation for this story. I have absolutely no desire to discontinue it, but I'm losing inspiration. I feel like people aren't enjoy it, and I feel like this story is just here and taking up space, lol. Please, if you like this story, would you leave me a review? I will really appreciate it, and it'll really make my day. Whether you realize it or not, a simple "that was awesome. update soon" helps A LOT. :)

* * *

><p>"I parked my truck in that parkin' lot down the road," Steve shares, holding his notebook firmly under his arm. "Ain't your folks home?" I grab the sleeve of his shirt, shaking my head.<p>

"No, they're not," I answer, yanking him inside my house. "But my whole family is going to be home soon, so we're going to my room." Steve steps past me silently, but I don't doubt that a vulgar comment is brewing inside his head.

He looks around my house, and honestly, I feel bad. Our front room is decorated with a bunch of useless items, and I almost feel like it's rubbing our amount of wealth - which is nothing compared to the West side - in his face.

I sigh, running my hand through my hair. "I'm sorry." Steve merely shrugs, knowing exactly what I'm talking about.

"It ain't your fault."

XxXxXxX

I take a seat on my bed, shaking my head slightly at how Steve is hogging the whole mattress. "So, why me?" He inquires, moving his left arm behind his head. I lean against my other pillow, pulling my homework onto my lap.

"What do you mean?"

"You asked for my help with this homework when there's a shit ton of smarter kids in the class." I bend my knees, shrugging my shoulders in response.

"I don't know," I answer. "You called me, and I'm not friends with anyone else in our class," I take another look at my homework, automatically growing frustrated with it again. I scoot down my bed, allowing my eyes the opportunity to stare at the ceiling. "I hate school." I sigh, absentmindedly throwing my notebook and pencil onto the ground. Steve snorts, throwing his arm around me.

"You and me both," he shares. I sigh again, rolling onto my stomach. "I'm ready to be outta that hellhole." Steve continues, wrapping his arm around my waist.

"Two more years, Steve, and then high school will be nothing more than a memory." I grin, laying my head on his chest. He groans, running his hand slowly around my back.

"It can't go by fast 'nough." Silently, I start to trace scribbles on his chest, letting his comment sink in.

Two more years until I'm on my own.

We continue to lay together in silence. My mind wanders from anything to if Steve is enjoying this much as I am or to when someone is going to be home. Are we going to get caught?

Our front door squeaks open; seconds later, my father's deep voice echoes through the whole house. "Eileen, are you home?" I pull away from Steve quickly.

"You have to hide, Steve, and fast," His enlarged eyes dart around my room, desperately searching for a hiding place. "Switch me places and hide beside my bed." I command, climbing over him. He silently obeys before flopping onto the floor. "You moron!" I cry. "Not so loud!"

My bedroom door swings open before Dad peeks his head inside. Although he wears a smile on his face, he also looks a little confused. "Honey, who were you talking to?"

I can feel my blood run cold, and it takes me everything I have to remain calm. I've never been good at lying, and my parents have always seen through my excuses. "I, um, well," I stumble over my words, and the added pressure of Dad staring me down, waiting for an answer, doesn't help my case. "I was talking to myself, Dad." I sigh, knowing there's absolutely no way he'll buy it.

Dad stares at me blankly, debating on if he should call me out on the BS excuse I gave him or not. Slowly, he changes positions. Dad purses his lips, leaning against the doorframe. "If you insist, Biscuit Butt." He says hesitantly, backing out the doorway.

Once the door is latched, Steve starts to laugh - hard. I grab a pillow, throwing it as hard as I can at him. "It's not funny!" Still laughing, he starts to sit up.

"I ain't too sure if I wanna hear how you got that nickname or not."

"I'm not telling you anyway," I growl, hitting him again. "Stop laughing! You weren't suppose to hear that."

"You wanted me to come over earlier."

"Now, I want you to leave," I scowl, crossing my arms. "And I'm not even going to attempt to sneak you out through the front door. Have fun leaving through the window."

"It ain't like it's gonna be hard," Steve rolls his eyes, opening the window. He easily hoists himself up and through the window, leading me to believe he's a professional at sneaking out. Once Steve's feet hit the ground, he turns around. His forever present, annoying smirk is plastered on his face. "See ya tomorrow, Biscuit Butt." He teases. I bite my tongue hard, flipping him the bird. Steve starts to laugh again before strolling off to his truck.

I repeat to myself that I hate him, but even I fail to believe that lie.

XxXxXxX

Mr Anderson stands in front of my desk, staring down at me, silently letting me know he's disappointed that I didn't do my homework.

Personally, I still blame Steve.

My grade cries tears of joy when I realize Steve isn't showing up to second period, and although I'm a little happy, I can't deny that I'm more upset. Sure, there's no doubt that he's going to be picking on me more since he's aware of my embarrassing nickname, but if I'm being completely honest with myself, I have to admit that I enjoy his teasing.

I enjoy the attention he gives me.

Sadly for me, chemistry progresses forward in the same exact fashion that algebra did.

No sign of Steve and mixed emotions.

XxXxXxX

"Where's ol' Steve-O at, Miss Eileen?" Two-Bit asks, stuffing his face with hamburger. I shrug my shoulders, failing to meet his eyes.

"I bet he's lovesick." Soda grins, looking towards the Mickey Mouse clad teen.

Each of them continue exchanging reputation harming comments about Steve with each other and the whole table, making it incredibly awkward for me; I feel like I'm going to suffocate.

Although she said she doesn't mind, I still can't help but feel like a bad friend to Evie. Steve and I have something more than a friendship going on, and it feels like I'm stabbing her in the back somehow.

I hate the feeling.

XxXxXxX

Soda looks absolutely petrified. Two-Bit looks angry. Sandy looks nauseous. Evie doesn't pay attention. Dallas and Sylvia appear unfazed. "What the hell happened to ya?" Soda inquires. Slowly, I turn around. Steve is advancing towards our table at an alarming speed, and he looks irate.

He storms over to me, yanking the free seat away from the table before plopping down. "What the heck happened to you, Steve?" Sandy asks sweetly, hopping to get an answer out of him. He merely shakes his head.

"It ain't nothin' I can't handle." He growls, laying his left arm across the back of my chair. Soda watches his friend, internally debating with himself over whether he should continue to prod for information or not.

With a heavy sigh, he settles back in his seat, continuing with his lunch.

After lunch, Steve walks me back to my fourth period. Biting my lip hard, I decide to press my luck, wondering if I can get any answers out of him. "Will you tell me what happened to you?" I ask, looking up at him. His mood turns bitter again, and I fear he'll snap at me. Instead, he shakes his head.

"It's nothin', Eileen," he says through gritted teeth.

"It's nothing, Steve?" I press. He nods his head. "If it's nothing, then why is your face all bruised? Why is there dried blood on your forehead?" Steve grabs my upper arm, pulling me off to the side.

"You wanna know what happened?" He asks angrily. Weakly, I nod my head. "I'll tell you. You ready? It was them fucking soc. They thought it'd be funny to jump me on my way inta school today. It was six on one. That's real fucking fair. Course they beat the shit outta me. If it woulda been two or three, I coulda handle 'em, but no. Them assholes thought six on one would be real fucking fair." He rolls his eyes, exhaling dramatically. Steve drops my arm, and although he wasn't yelling at me directly, I can't help but feel the urge to cry. "I'll see you in sixth period." He grumbles. Steve turns sharply before storming off down the hall.

With a heavy sigh, I wipe the tears from my eyes before heading back to civics alone.

XxXxXxX

Jacquelyn pleads with me for several moments after school to join her for the student government meeting, claiming she doesn't want to walk home alone. I feel bad; normally, I would've agreed to stay with her for something like this, but after the events that happened today, I'm ready to go home, and call it a day.

Soda had told me, earlier in civics, not to worry about it; he said that Steve was having a terrible day and had tendencies to take it out on anyone he can – whether they're male or female.

I didn't have the heart to tell him that it'll take a lot more than that to get over the pain I'm feeling from suffering through Steve's wrath.

Then, in study hall, Steve barely acknowledged me. I wouldn't admit it aloud, but that hurt more than when he furiously screamed his story to me after lunch.

Beside me, a familiar beat-up truck slows down; a quick honk of a horn successfully catches my attention. Beside me, Steve is staring at me – occasionally, his eyes flicker towards the road in front of him. "Get in the truck," he commands. "I wanna talk to you." After experiencing what I did today, I comply easily, not wanting to revisit his previous mood.

Plus, his bruised up face makes him look way more intimidating. I start for the passenger's side, and when Steve catches that I'm obeying, he stops.

"You ain't mad 'bout earlier, are ya?" He asks, speeding up. Buckling my seatbelt, I shake my head silently.

"No," I sigh. "I don't blame you for being that upset, I guess, but you really scared me. I thought you were mad at me from the way you were yelling at me."

"We still on for Saturday?" I nod my head, biting my lip, resisting the growing smile. Instantly, any hurt he caused me earlier is lifted, and my heart starts to race. I feel myself falling a little harder for him.

"Yeah," I answer, allowing the smile to slip through. "Hey, Steve?" His eyebrows raise, letting me know that he's listening. "Can you give me a ride home too?"

"How 'bout we go to The Dingo instead. I'm starvin'."

* * *

><p>Eileen and Steve's relationship is starting, and to be honest, I'm unsure of how I feel about the way Steve tells Eileen the story about the soc. I'm afraid he was too harsh, but hey, he was mad, and no one wants to mess with Steve Randle when he's fired up. Right?<p>

I hope you guys liked this chapter, and please don't hesitate with leaving me feedback. I will really appreciate it, and your feedback makes my day! Plus, I'm in desperate need of motivation, and I can assure you that your reviews inspire me to continue writing. :)


	9. Feels Like the First Time

**Sixteen Candles**  
><em>Chapter Nine<em>

**Author's Note:** Lawdy, it's been forever! I've missed you all, and I hope you've all missed me too. :) I'm not going to give any excuses for not updating because I don't have any, and you already know that I'm having no desire to continue working on this story ((I still don't plan on discontinuing it. If anything, it'll go on hiatus!))

I guess I can tell you guys that I've been busy lately. I'm trying to figure out a phone situation. My birthday is coming up ((it's on the fifth of May. Anyone share a birthday with me!?)), and I'm trying to figure out what I want to do for that, and I'm trying to get a job. So, wish me luck for that? :)

Well, that's basically all that's been going on with my life lately. Onward to chapter nine. I hope you guys all enjoy it, and honestly, it's a filler chapter. I hope you don't find it _too_ boring. If there's any mistakes, I'm offer you my sincerest apology. I'm too lazy to read over it, and it's been at least three weeks since I've touched this story.

* * *

><p>He stuffs his face hungrily into a cheeseburger while I take in my surroundings nervously. I've never been to The Dingo before, and the group of greasers that are about to fight is making me terrified - really terrified.<p>

I don't know what scares me more: the fact that Steve isn't too concerned or the fact that one of them has a blade in view.

I swallow nervously, anxiously wiping my palms on my skirt. "Steve, they're not going to hurt us, are they?" I ask weakly, keeping my eyes on the group. He looks towards them, and from the look in his eyes, I want to say he looks eager for what might be about to happen.

"We're gonna be fine," he answers, taking another bite of burger. "You sure you ain't hungry though?" He inquires through his food.

"Don't talk with your mouth full." I scold. Steve rolls his eyes, swallowing his food.

"Sorry, Mom," he mutters sarcastically. "I forgot my manners along with my bag of fucks to give." Beside us, a middle-age man along with a few waitresses run past the booth; the man screams angrily for the group of hoods to take their business outside before he calls the police.

They don't look scared at all, but nonetheless, they leave without making a scene. It shocks me.

Steve claps a couple bills onto the table, enough to cover the cost, before climbing out of the booth. I follow on his tail, eager to get out of the freaky atmosphere.

Even with Steve as my protection, I still don't feel comfortable inside the building.

XxXxXxX

Instead of taking me home, Steve takes me down the railroad tracks. I look around nervously, terrified with the different thoughts of how us being here can go wrong. "Why are we here?" I ask slowly, looking down the track.

Steve shrugs his shoulders.

"I dunno," he replies, pulling a cigarette from the pocket of his leather jacket. In his hand, coupled with the cigarette, sits a dark blue lighter. "Soda n I would come and play on the tracks when we were little. Then, some dumb ass kid got hit by a train. It killed him instantly, and once Mrs Curtis heard that, she decided to forbid us from comin' back." Steve sucks on his cigarette for a few seconds before pulling it from his lips. "We snuck down here a couple times." Steve continues; smoke billows out of his mouth. "Darry found us once and he bout knocked our heads together. He was pissed." Steve grins, sticking the cigarette out the window, freeing it from ashes.

"So, we're testing our luck?" Steve's eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. "I mean, you're not allowed to come down here, so you brought me here, so we can see if we get caught or not." He rolls his eyes once he realizes what I'm saying.

"No," he replies plainly. "Soda ain't allowed to come here, but the rule don't apply to me. C'mon, I want to show you somethin'." Steve pulls on the handle, letting the door swing open. Silently, he hops to the gravel below.

"If we get killed, I'm going to beat you up."

"You can't beat me up if you're dead, Stupid."

"My spirit can."

"You're nuts. C'mon, let's go." With a disapproving sigh, I follow Steve's lead.

"Now, where in the world did you get the impression that this was a good idea?" I ask, reaching for his extended hand. He merely smirks, pulling me onto the train tracks. "We're going to get hit."

"We ain't gonna get hit. Quit being dramatic."

"I'm not being dramatic. I'm being realistic. We're standing in the middle of train tracks, Steve. If you ask anyone with a brain, they're going to agree that we're asking to get hit." He rolls his eyes, drops my hand and starts following the tracks west. "Oh, great, Steve! Now, we're begging to be killed."

"Trust me, we ain't gonna get hit. S'long as you zip it so we can hear any train whistles, we'll be fine. I've only been doing this since I was like 12. I'm pretty much a professional at railroad walking."

"Sorry." I mutter, crossing my arms and watching my feet.

XxXxXxX

Finally, after what seems like hours, we make it to whatever destination Steve had in mind. After finally catching up to him, I realize he brought me to an abandon little shack. "How many little hideaways do you know about?" Steve turns around.

"More than you know, Doll Face." He winks. I roll my eyes, following him towards the building.

"This place doesn't look very stable and secure," I announce nervously. "It looks like it's going to fall down any moment." Steve merely shrugs.

"It's always looked like this," he reassures. "Ain't nothin' happened to it yet."

"Serious though, Steve. How do you know about this place?" He kicks the door in; to my surprise, it remains in tact and on its hinges.

"My old man use to be normal, believe it or not," he begins, stepping inside. "He use to work out here with my uncle. I ain't too sure what they did out here, but I dunno. It was pretty successful. Then, I was born, and some other things happened. Dad became an abusive asshole, and the place became a mess." Steve sighs, walking around the old place. "There's a path 'round here somewhere, but it's so overgrown that it was safer takin' the train tracks."

"It's kind of sad to see the building like this after hearing that story." I frown, looking around the small place.

"What the hell isn't sad nowadays?"

XxXxXxX

Miraculously, I'm the only one home when Steve drops me off around 5:00. It serves as a major shock. Usually, Douglas, Mom or Imogene is home by now. It's rare for the house to be completely empty at this time.

Instead of doing something my parents wouldn't approve of, I head straight for the dining room table, reluctantly starting my homework.

Before I have a chance to start, my sister comes storming into the kitchen.

"What's wrong with you?" I ask, busying myself with my algebra. Imogene groans loudly, throwing her purse onto the counter. She moves to the fridge, opening it and slamming it shut not even a second later. "God damn, Imogene. Chill out."

My eyes widen, and Imogene turns towards me slowly. She looks as shocked as I do, and it appears that, instantly, her previous anger has disappeared. Since we were little, my parents have continuously pounded the idea that swearing is bad into our heads. For the most part, their enforcement of straying away from the language has worked. Imogene and I are guilt-free of such profanity – no matter how simple the word is – but Douglas is more frequent. Although he remains clean around our parents, when they're out of sight, he doesn't hold anything back.

"You better not let Mom or Dad hear you speak that way, and I'll knock your head in next time I hear that kind of language." She half warns, half scolds. I nod, ultimately blaming Steve and his friends for the slip of the swear word. With each day, they're ruining my good girl image. I roll my eyes, attempting to brush off my initial shock; after all, it wasn't that big of a deal.

"It was an accident."

XxXxXxX

"Mom, Sandy wants to know if I can come over and spend the night," I announce, holding my hand over the bottom piece. "Can I?" She looks at me nervously.

"It's a school night, Eileen. I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"Mom, you use to let Jacquelyn and I do it all the time. I promise we'll go to bed at a decent time. I promise we'll make it to school on time. Besides, her parents are going to be there. I promise we'll be fine, Mom." She chews nervously on her lip, searching hard for the right answer. After a few seconds, she sighs loudly.

"I don't care, but you better not make me regret giving you permission."

"You won't." I smile victoriously, telling Sandy the final verdict. Once we hang up, I run off to my room, packing a bag as fast as I can. Within a few minutes, I'm finished and on my way to her house.

XxXxXxX

Sandy meets me at the end of her driveway; on her face, a smile ten miles wide is present, and to say I'm a little nervous is an understatement. I'm downright fearful, and nothing can prepare me for the news she's going to present to me.

"My parents are out of town for the rest of the week," she announces. "And my sister is staying the night at my aunt's. It's going to be you and me tonight. Are you excited?" Something tells me we're going to do something worthy of a lot of trouble. She grabs my backpack from me, looking at it in confusion. "Why'd you bring this and an overnight bag?"

"It's a school night."

"I planned on skipping, Eileen. My parents aren't going to be home. Your parents will have no way of knowing," she nudges me, wiggling her eyebrows. "Doesn't that sound like fun?

Inside, I know it's wrong. If my parents found out, there's no doubt that they'd kill me, but the longer I think about it, the more appealing it sounds. I've never skipped school, and if I'm being completely honest with myself, I've always wanted to try it. Besides, right now, none of my classes sound the least bit exciting. I start to smirk.

"Sandy, let's skip school tomorrow."

XxXxXxX

"Isn't this nice?" Sandy asks, carefully painting her nails. "It's 9:00 on a Wednesday night, and we don't have to listen to any parents tellin' us to go to bed. I don't know 'bout you, but I'm really enjoyin' this." I smile against my wishes, stuffing some popcorn into my mouth.

"This is nice," I answer, swallowing hard. "I hope this doesn't end up becoming a habit though. My parents would kill me, I'm sure." Sandy shrugs, pursing her lips.

"They'll get use to the idea eventually, and whether they want to or not, they'll accept it." She answers effortlessly. I roll my eyes at her response, sticking another piece into my mouth.

"I swear, all of you guys are bad influences on me," I add. "Earlier, I accidently said 'damn', and you know, my parents raised us to be proper and avoid swearing at all cost, and goodness gracious, my sister looked like she had witnessed someone die." Sandy snorts, oblivious to the fact that my story is a little dramatized.

"Compared to the stuff Steve and Dallas say, that's nothin'!" Sandy exclaims, holding her hand up. She examines her nails thoroughly, and when she's satisfied, she waits for them to dry.

"That's what I'm saying."

Sandy and I lounge around her house for the remainder of the night, snacking on anything we can find, and like any other teenage girl, gossiping about the latest things and cutest boys.

Nothing big and exciting happens, but nonetheless, I have a great time.

* * *

><p>Bam. That's chapter nine! I hope you guys liked it, and please leave a review. I would love to hear what you guys think! As far as I remember, chapter 10 is more interesting, but nonetheless, please review. I really appreciate when you guys leave me feedback, and it helps me get an idea on what should happen next.<p>

Do it for Johnny? :)


	10. Dream On

**Sixteen Candles**  
><em>Chapter 10<em>

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _The Outsiders_.

* * *

><p>Seconds following the landing of the pillow on my face, someone starts to giggle. I remain still on the hardwood floor, thinking hard on where I'm at. "Hey, Eileen, are you awake?"<p>

That's right. I'm at Sandy's house.

"I'm awake," I murmur, pulling the pillow away. "What time is it?" Slowly, I roll onto my side, easing my eyes open at a turtle's pace. By the time they're fully open, the sunlight streaming in through the front window barely phases my vision.

"I think it's around 10:00," she answers. "Go get dressed and ready. We're going to go have some fun today." I shoot her a confused look.

"We're skipping school though," I state. "Doesn't that mean we're suppose basically forced to stay home?" Sandy rolls her eyes; then, she starts to grin sneakily.

"That's only if you're a pussy," The vulgar language slips through her lips as a mere squeak, but it's enough to send her into another fit of giggles. I roll my eyes, not impressed with her reaction to her own use of disgusting slang. "C'mon, let's get going, Eileen. We're gonna go visit Soda at the DX." Reluctantly, I climb to my feet.

XxXxXxX

Soda is the only one working when we arrive, and right as we step through the door, Sandy is at his side. She leans over the counter, and he meets her halfway before engaging in a heartfelt kiss.

Personally, I'm not too keen with the idea of PDA, but maybe someday I'll get use to it.

"Sorry 'bout that, Miss Eileen," Soda shares, breaking away from his girlfriend. He starts to grin, and with my best effort to keep the awkwardness I'm feeling at bay, I join the two. "How come you two ain't in school?"

"My parents ain't home, and I talked her into skippin' class with me. How come you ain't in school?"

Soda begins to smirk. "Boss needed someone to work, so I offered. My folks weren't too happy, but they agreed, and here I am. Skipping school for work. But, Eileen, Steve ain't gonna be too happy 'bout that." Soda announces. Sandy starts to smile as the two's eyes land on me. My face drops, and my eyes shift from both of them in confusion.

"I don't get it." I whisper, dropping my gaze to the floor. Sandy begins giggling, looking towards her boyfriend. Soda merely grins.

"You serious?" He inquires. I nod my head weakly. "Steve is fallin' hard for you, Eileen. I ain't too sure if you've noticed, but he really, really likes ya." Within seconds, my cheeks start to burn.

"No, he doesn't," I argue. "Sure, we're going out together this weekend, but he doesn't like me that much." Sandy rolls her eyes for a reason unknown to me. As for Soda, he shoots me a look, and I don't know if it's a good thing or not that I'm not sure what it means.

"Miss Eileen, you're ridiculous," he comments. "Steve likes ya. You wanna know what he told me the other day?" I shrug my shoulders, remaining silent. "He told me that he really, really likes ya. I swear to the lord above. You're the main reason he don't complain that much 'bout goin' to school."

"It's true, Eileen. I heard him tell Soda the other day." I find myself resisting the urge to smile. A boy actually likes me. I never thought this would happen. All I hope is that Soda and Sandy aren't exaggerating with how much he likes me.

Soda starts to laugh. "Look at her face, Sandy. I think we just made her day." I shake my head, rolling my eyes in an attempt to get them off my case.

It doesn't help any, and instead, the teasing continues.

XxXxXxX

Right at 3:00 on the dot, I step into my house, and to my surprise, Mom is standing in the living room – no doubt waiting for me to get home.

My heart starts racing, and as calmly as I can, I let my bag fall from the ground. "Eileen, we need to talk." Her tone is plain, and her face holds no indication of whether this talk will be bad or good. Either way, my heart pounds harder.

Deep down, something tells me she knows. Somehow she knows I didn't attend my classes today. I run through excuses I can possible throw at her to save my butt; I wonder how she could possibly know I skipped.

Seconds later, realization hits hard, and once it down, my face falls, and I don't doubt that the color has drained completely.

Imogene or Douglas somehow told on me.

Mom takes a seat on the couch, gently patting the seat beside her. I swallow hard, forcing a smile and willing myself to keep down the growing urge to vomit. Her lack of speech is starting to stress me out, and at any moment, I might faint.

She starts to laugh a bit, altering my emotions completely. Within two seconds, I'm feeling more confusion than anxiety. "Sweetie, calm down," Mom says sweetly. "It looks like you've seen a ghost." I force another smile, causally shrugging my shoulders.

"I don't know why," I answer awkwardly. I force a laugh – a laugh as awkward as my attempt to remain calm. Successfully and unintentionally, I earn a weird look from my mom. "Anyway, what'd you need to talk to me about?" Mom quickly looks away, licking her lips and taking a couple deep breaths. She stalls for a couple seconds longer before finally turning back towards me.

"Sweetie, do you remember you Aunt Evelyn?" Mom inquires, staring hard into my eyes. Weakly, I shake my head, waiting to see where this goes. Again, Mom takes a deep breath.

Great. In a matter of a few moments, the mood has completely changed, and I'm about to get another "death of a relative" speech.

Mom chuckles quietly, but it sounds forced. "No, Eileen, it's nothing like that. Aunt Evelyn is still very much alive." Relief washes over me instantly. "But, Eileen, we've all decided it'll be best if she goes to a nursing home. She's getting too old to take care of herself, and it'll be the best thing."

My mind strays away from what Mom is saying, and I find myself wondering why she's sharing this information with me. I don't remember her, and I don't have an opinion on nursing homes.

Long story short, this conversation we're having doesn't pertain to me at all.

Mom sighs, shaking her head slightly. "Honey, on Saturday we're going to drive down to Idabel and stay the night at her house. Then, on Sunday, we're going to help Uncle Mark and his two boys transport some of Aunt Evelyn's stuff to the nursing home."

My heart drops to my stomach. Saturday is when I'm going out with Steve.

I open my mouth to express my previous plans. Mom waits eagerly, nodding her head silently. Quickly, I remember I'm not even allowed to hang around him. Instead, I force a smile. "That sounds great, Mom." I lie. She starts to smile, satisfied that I'm not putting up a fight with her.

"Okay, Honey, I have to go to Grandma's now. I promised I would help her finish cleaning the house, but I wanted to tell you while I still remembered. If you're hungry, there's dinner in the fridge. I don't know what time your dad is going to be home, and I don't know how long I'll be at her house. And Lord knows when Imogene or Douglas is going to get home. I love you, Eileen." Mom leans forward, gently kissing my forehead before jumping up from the couch.

She continues talking to me, but I don't pay the least bit of attention. Before long, Mom has her shoes on, her purse on her arm, and she's calling one last goodbye before rushing out the door.

As soon as the door shuts, I know I'm going to be alone for the rest of the night.

XxXxXxX

Steve wastes absolutely no time finding me when I return to school. "I missed ya yesterday, Doll Face," he comments, leaning against a nearby locker. My heart flutters, and I bite back a smile. "I had to do my own work. Glad you're back so I can copy off ya."

Instantly, my smile is gone.

"Wow, thanks, Steve, I missed you too," I answer sarcastically, rolling my eyes. He starts to smirk, looking on down the hall. "Why are you even here bothering me? Don't you have a class to go to?" I ask, setting my civics book inside my locker.

"Civics ain't gonna miss me that much." He shrugs, waiting for me. I shut my locker, and with Steve by my side, we walk to Spanish.

A couple times during our walk, his hand brushes against mine. My heart flutters each time it happens, and part of me wants to make the move and grab this hand.

Finally, before we start down the stairs, it happens.

He grabs a hold of my hand, lacing our fingers together. I can feel my heart beginning to race. I can't believe it's actually happening.

Halfway down the stairs, my conversation with my mom about Aunt Evelyn pops up, and with a heavy, internal sigh, I know I have to tell Steve. "Hey, Steve, I have something to tell you about Saturday."

"You're cancelin' on me, ain't ya?"

"No, I was going to ask if we can move it to Friday. My family is going to Idabel on Saturday." Steve drops my hand once we finish our walk down the stairs, leaving me with the struggle of masking my disappointment.

"I have to work Friday night, but I can probably switch with one of the guys."

"I'm really sorry," Steve merely shrugs. "I don't understand why I even have to go. I don't know the lady." We approach my Spanish class; Steve comes to a halt.

"Don't worry about it, but I'll pick you up around 7:00." I nod my head with a smile on my face. Steve nods once in response before strolling off down the hallway.

I watch him leave, and before long a silly little smile is on my face.

XxXxXxX

Right as soon as I get home Friday afternoon, I head straight for my closet. Tonight is my date with Steve, and at this point, I have nothing to wear. The day is still young, but on the inside, I'm freaking out.

What do I wear? What do you wear to a first date? What if I look too formal? What if I'm too casual? Steve isn't going to look any nicer than usual, is he?

I throw my closet doors open, looking left to right, up and down my clothes. When that plan fails, I start fingering through the different articles.

"This is stupid!" I groan to myself. "I don't know what's appropriate for a date." I look through my clothes a couple more times. Eventually, I find an outfit I can settle on.

It's nothing spectacular. It's merely a simple pink dress. It's nothing formal, but it makes me look presentable.

7:00 comes quick, and I'm more than thankful that neither of my parents are home. Steve approaches the door slowly, and from how weak his knock is, I can tell he's expecting one of my parents to answer.

Or he's nervous – like me.

If you ask me, I would consider Steve's a fairly close friend, but it still doesn't help ease my nerves.

I pull the door opening, revealing Steve clad in his usual attire. "Hey, Steve." I greet, stepping into my shoes.

"Hey, Eileen, you look great," he grins, looking me up and down. I mutter a thanks, trying to ignore the blush creeping into my cheeks. "You ready to go?" I nod my head, stepping out the door.

Steve pulls the truck door open, grabbing a hold of my hand and helping me into the passenger seat. I take a seat, smoothing my skirt, and once I'm situated, Steve shuts the door behind me.

In the moment, any nerves I was previously feeling are gone.

XxXxXxX

We both take a seat on the circular chairs, struggling to put the roller skates on our feet. "You good at this?" Steve asks, pulling his converse off. I shrug my shoulders.

"I doubt it," I frown, stepping into the left skate. "This is the first time I've ever been to the roller rink, and I've never been skating before." It rolls out from underneath my foot and deep down, a little part of me fears how this evening will go down.

"Me either. This outta be interestin'," We put our skates on silently, and once we're done, neither of us moves. "Well, you ready to get out there?" Carefully, Steve pushes himself to his feet. He's a little wobbly on his feet, and within minutes of standing up, he nearly falls. "Shit, this is hard." He grumbles. Steve steadies himself, and when he's confident that he's not going to fall, he extends his hand for me.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I ask nervously, taking it anyway. Steve tugs on my arm; I rise to my feet easily, and I'm surprised that I don't fall. "We're going to kill ourselves, Steve." He merely shrugs shoulders, and while concentrating hard on getting the hang of skating, we head towards the rink.

I hang on tightly to Steve's arm, and although I know it's making skating a little more difficult, I don't ease up any. He takes the outside, occasionally leaning against the wall as a way to brace himself.

Several other people have already lapped us several times, and if I didn't know any better, I would say it's bothering Steve. "Want to go a little faster?" Without waiting for an answer, he pushes off of the wall and picks up speed.

His need for speed catches me off guard, and our skates collide – our wheel lock together.

Steve falls forward while I land on my bottom. He swears loudly, burying his head in his arms. Despite the noise, I can hear him talking to himself, but it's too muffled for me to understand what he's saying.

Something tells me he's swearing, and I don't even doubt the thought.

"We should probably get up before someone runs us over." I tell him quietly, getting myself back to my feet. Steve pushes down onto the ground, lifting his body up, and carefully, he climbs to his feet.

He doesn't look too thrilled.

We continue to skate; this time, we roll around in silence. I'm not normally one to blame others, but I can't help but think that if Steve didn't get cocky with his skating "skill", he wouldn't have had the desire to go faster, and we wouldn't have fallen.

Or if he would've given me more of a warning, I could've better prepared myself.

XxXxXxX

Steve parks alongside the curb despite the fact that both of my parents and siblings are home. I'm a little surprised with myself too when I don't even care.

"I had a lot of fun tonight," Steve comments, gaining a few more moments with me. "Can I see you again?" He looks towards me, waiting for an answer.

"Well, of course, Steve. You're going to see me Monday in algebra," I smirk. He groans quietly and rolls his eyes. "I'll see you later, Steve." I turn towards the door, reaching for the handle when Steve stops me.

"Eileen, wait," he slides towards me, and when I turn around to face him, the unexpected happens. Without a warning, he presses his lips to me, cupping my face in his hands.

Steve Randle is actually kissing me.

My heart skips a beat. The butterflies in my stomach flare up. I can't believe it's happening. My reaction stalls a bit, but when I'm finally able to comprehend what's going on, I slowly wrap my arms around his neck.

I've always heard teenage girls talking about sparks they feel when that special someone kisses then. Honestly, I never understood what they meant, and I always thought it was stupid and fake. Now, I realize how wrong I was.

Steve Randle makes sparks fly.

He pulls away, covering himself with that stupid smirk of his. "Good night, Eileen." Steve says. I mutter a response back, but I'm still in a strong state of shock that I don't even know what I said.

I push the door open before stepping onto the sidewalk. After shutting the car door, I start my walk towards the door. I hear Steve pull away, and I still can't get over the feeling. I feel like I'm in an entirely different state of mind.

But, even in this state, I'm still thankful for the fact that our living room is completely empty when I step into the house.

* * *

><p>Well, there's the newest installment of Sixteen Candles. :) I would really appreciate it if you guys reviewed telling me what you thought! I love to hear from you guys, and it could be a late birthday present (my birthday was last Monday)! Either way, I really hope you guys review. It means a lot.<p>

do it for Johnny :)


	11. Is This Love?

**Sixteen Candles**  
><em>Chapter 11<em>

**Author's Note:** Well, no one reviewed the last chapter, so that's really depressing. I don't know if you guys realize it, but it really, truly does motivate me to continue this story when you guys review. So, can we change that for this chapter? Can you guys please review and leave feedback? I really do appreciate when you all do. :)

Also, I found a mistake in the previous chapter, but that's been fixed. It doesn't require to go back and reread the whole chapter, but if you want, feel free to.

* * *

><p>I want to break free. I want to scream. I can't handle this anymore. I cannot handle two more hours in a fairly small car with my older brother. He's stinking up the car, and he's talking my ear off.<p>

He's making me want to open the car door and dive onto the pavement.

"Douglas, please," Mom cries. "Can you stop talking for 10 minutes? You're driving me insane!" He shuts his mouth instantly; I'm sure he's as surprised as we are that Mom basically told him to shut up.

I turn my head, directing my attention out the window. My eyes focus on the passing cars and scenery, but it doesn't stop my mind from wandering – wandering back to last night.

Steve initiated the kiss; I had nothing to do with it. I didn't provoke him in anyway – it was all him, but where did it put us? Are we still friends but closer? Are we officially dating? Does Steve consider us a couple?

Not long into my daze, Imogene nudges me. I snap out of my thoughts before turning towards her. "Are you okay?" She asks quietly, attempting to keep our impending conversation away from the ears of our parents and Douglas.

I strongly consider telling her everything is fine, but she sees through lies easily.

"I don't know." I grumble, shrugging my shoulders.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I shoot her a look in which she rolls her eyes. "I didn't mean right here and now, Stupid. I was referring to later when everyone is asleep."

Again, I shrug my shoulders.

I would like to think I'm close to Imogene. I'd like to think that we have a close relationship, but I don't know if I can trust her with everything that's going on. I don't know how she'll react when I tell her that I've been hanging around the greasers – specifically Steve – and I have absolutely no idea how she'll react when I tell her that Steve and I are a little more than friends.

"Too bad," Imogene whispers, bringing me back to reality once again. "Once everyone goes to sleep, you're telling me everything that's on your mind. It's obvious something is bothering you, Eileen. You have that faraway look in your eyes, and it's hard to keep your attention."

"Imogene, I'll be fine." She shakes her head, looking forward. Without saying a word, she continues shaking her head; otherwise telling me that our conversation is over, and that no amount of pleading and persuading will get her to change her mind.

In other words, the chances of my life being over tomorrow are incredibly high.

Goodbye, Steve.

XxXxXxX

Aunt Evelyn welcomes us with open arms, repeating her greetings several times. She wraps each member of my family up in a big hug – except Douglas who had managed to slip past her without her realizing this.

She looks exactly like my mother. Her dark brown eyes are nearly identical to my mother's, and although she had more than enough wrinkles, she shares the same face shape, nose, mouth, everything with my mom.

It really catches me off guard.

Imogene grins, hugging our great aunt tightly. "Aunt Evelyn, it's so wonderful to see you again. I've missed you so much!" She repeats Imogene's word back to her in a similar fashion with a few different words, and when she gets to me, her eyes nearly fall out of her head.

"My goodness, Child," she says breathlessly. "I can't believe how big you've gotten. I can't believe how gorgeous you are too; you look exactly like your momma." She steps towards me, opening her arms.

"Has Mark told you anything about the nursing home?" Dad inquires, ultimately stealing the show. Aunt Evelyn pulls away fast, narrowing her eyes in my father's direction.

"What did I tell you?" She asks in response. Her tone has gone from cheerful and happy to cold and bitter in a matter of seconds. "I told everyone multiple times that I don't need a damn nursing home. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. John has been gone for 25 years now, and I'm still in the best shape a woman my age can be." Mom sighs, gently pushing on my shoulders.

Her silent way of telling me to go find my brother and sister.

XxXxXxX

My family calls it a night around 10:00, and the moment I've been dreading all day is about to arrive.

Imogene climbs into the double bed with me, settling into the mattress before attempting to make herself comfortable. It appears to be a never ending process, and I'm thankful for when she finally settles down.

Moments of silence pass, and I'm starting to believe she forgot about our conversation in the car.

Then, she proves me wrong.

"So, what was bothering you in the car?" She asks, rolling onto her left side. Her eyes stare into me, and it succeeds in making the whole conversation more uncomfortable than it already is. "Don't you dare lie to me either because I'll call you out on it." Seeing no other way out of the situation, I sigh heavily in defeat.

"Do you promise you won't tell anyone?" In the dark, I can barely see her nodding her head. "That means you can't tell anyone. You can't tell Douglas, Mom or Dad. This has to stay in between us."

"Eileen, knock it off. I know what it means to keep a secret."

"Well," I sigh again, desperately thinking of another way out of what's about to happen. In seconds, I give up again. "Remember when Mom and Dad told me to stay away from those greasers after you and Douglas told them what they were like?" Imogene nods again. "Well, I've been sneaking around with them behind their back." I wait for a reaction, but when one doesn't come, I continue. "Lately, I've been close to Steve Randle, and I really like him, Imogene. I know he likes me too. His best friend told me. Last night, I went out on a date with him, and before he dropped me off, he full out kissed me. I didn't do anything to provoke it, and it came without warning. Now, I don't know where that puts us. Are we still friends but closer? Are we officially dating? I don't know, and it's been bothering me all day. I'm really confused, Imogene."

She remains silent for a minute. With each passing second, I start to regret my decision to even tell her what's been going on for the past month or so.

"Wow," she finally answers. "If Mom and Dad ever find out, they're going to kill you, Eileen. They've made it clear several times that they don't want you around those boys, but don't worry. I promised you I wouldn't tell anyone, and I'm going to keep my promise." A smile slips onto my lips. "If I were you, I would ask him where you guys stand. It would be bad to assume you're dating only to find out he doesn't think you guys are a couple. Yeah, that's what I'd do."

We both lay in silence, and for a bit, I think she's fallen asleep. "How is he?" Imogene asks quietly. "Is he as bad as everyone says?" I stare at the dark ceiling for a big, thinking of how to respond.

"No, I don't think so," I reply slowly. "Imogene, he's been through way too much. His dad is always screaming at him, and sometimes his dad actually hits him. His mom isn't around anymore. He has a temper, but can you blame him? He's been to hell and back."

"Can I meet him someday?" Imogene asks, rolling onto her side. She props her head up with her right hand and looks down at me. "I've seen him around school, and he scares me, but will you introduce me to him?"

"If you want me to, but Imogene, please don't tell him anything I told you. His best friend told me his life story once, and I don't think he knows, but meet me at my locker Monday morning. He always walks me to first hour."

"I'll be there."

XxXxXxX

With the help of Uncle Mark and his boys, Joseph and Louis, we load her things up pretty quickly. Aunt Evelyn is still very much against the idea of living in a nursing home, but my parents and uncle spend most of the car ride reassuring her it'll be the best thing to ever happen to her.

She doesn't believe them, and for the most part, I don't blame her.

Douglas and Joseph screw around in the middle section of Uncle Mark's van while Imogene, Louis and I squeeze together in the back. "So, how old are you, Louis?" Imogene asks, leaning forward. She looks past me and at our cousin.

"I turned 16 back in May," he answers. Imogene begins to smile. "Joseph is going to turn 18 in a couple weeks."

"Eileen turned 16 last month." She shares. I roll my eyes, leaning my head back against the head rest.

This ride can't end soon enough.

XxXxXxX

Our family gathers around the back of Uncle Mark's van; all of us are waiting for a box or suitcase. "Goodness, is she moving in or what?" Douglas asks, pushing past Imogene. Joseph snorts loudly and accepts a box from his dad.

"I really hope we're leaving after this." Imogene mutters to me, stepping forward to grab a box. I follow her lead, and Uncle Mark hands me a suitcase. Imogene waits for me, and once I've reached her, we head off to find Aunt Evelyn's room.

"I'm ready to go home, but I don't know if I can handle another four hours in a car with Douglas." Imogene groans loudly, earning a few glares from some of the residents.

"At least you get to sit by the window. I'm stuck sitting next to the pig." I do my best to stifle my giggles wanting to slip out. Thankfully, before another word can be said, we find our aunt's room. Inside, several boxes and suitcases are thrown about – a clear indication that Douglas and Joseph are responsible.

"Mom is going to be so mad at Douglas." I state, setting my item gently on her bed.

"Should we stay in here and start putting her clothes away? I bet Mom will really appreciate that, and it'll make Douglas looking even worse." Imogene winks at me before opening the brown, leather suitcase.

"Let's do it."

Once the room is all set up, Dad and Uncle Mark step into the hall to retrieve Aunt Evelyn. Dad, attempting to be funny, tells her to close her eyes, and after protesting for a few minutes, she finally complies. Mom, with a big grin on her face, pulls the door open, and both men lead her inside.

Douglas and Joseph claim her bed while Imogene, Louis and I stand off to the side. Dad starts to grin, and within a few steps of entering the room, all three of them. "Okay, Evelyn, you can open your eyes now." She does so slowly, and upon seeing her room, she doesn't look very thrilled – not that I blame her.

"I don't like it," she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest. Mom tells the boys to get off the bed; they mutter a few sarcastic and rude things under their breath before following her orders. "I told you guys that I was perfectly capable of remaining in my house, and I still think I am." Dad merely shakes his head, leading her towards her new bed.

"Aunt Evelyn, you're going to love this place." Uncle Mark tells her. "People are going to wait on you, and you're going to be able to make some new friends."

"I don't need these old hags." Behind us, Doug and Joseph start to giggle. Imogene shifts her weight to one side, crosses her arms and rolls her eyes.

"They're so immature." She mutters, looking towards our aunt. I nod my head in agreement, finding it amazing that an 18-year-old boy could be so immature while his twin sister has the mental age of someone well into their 20s.

Aunt Evelyn falls onto her bed lazily, making the springs cry out loudly at the force of her body. "I can't believe you guys teamed up on me like this." She groans, falling back slowly. Dad steps towards Mom, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. After he pulls away, they both look at Dad's watch. Mom's face falls; her mouth hangs open.

"I didn't realize it was already that time!" She cries. "Aunt Evelyn, I hate to rush off like this, but we have to get going if we want these hooligans in bed at a decent time." Both of my parents step towards her, ready to give her a farewell hug.

"Kids, come give Aunt Evelyn a hug goodbye." Dad suggests. Imogene and I walk towards them without a fight, but Douglas is another story. He complains quietly to Joseph, and to be honest, it sort of upsets me.

We never visit her, and when we do, it's to move her to a nursing home. For the most part, she seems nice, and her comments amuse me to no end, and already, I like her a lot. To me, Douglas has a lot of nerve to complain about a simple, friendly gesture.

In the end, he obeys Dad, and once we've all given her a hug, we say goodbye to Uncle Mark, Joseph and Louis before heading on our way.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little sad to leave.

XxXxXxX

Bright and early Monday morning, Steve approaches my locker. "How was your weekend in Idabel?" He sticks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans as his body falls against the locker next to mind.

"I had to spend a whole day with my obnoxious cousin and brother, so it wasn't too fun. If they wouldn't have been there, it would've been fun. It turns out that my aunt is actually really cool. How was your weekend?" I dial in my combination, messing up halfway through. "Dang it." I frown, trying again.

"Nothin' special," he mutters. "Got kicked out Saturday so I spent it with Soda and his brothers. You wanna come with Soda, Sandy and me at lunch? We're goin' down to The Dingo." I bite my tongue, internally debating with myself over whether I should voice my next question.

Before I can think twice, I open my mouth.

"Is this a date or are we going out as friends?" Once the words leave my mouth, I begin to regret my decision. Nervously, I look towards Steve. He's merely smirks.

"Sure sounds like a lunch date to me." He winks. "S'long as you don't mind me re-introducin' you to Soda and Sandy as my girl." I nod my head, struggling to hide the blush creeping into my cheeks.

From this moment on, Steve and I are officially a couple.

Steve reaches forward, grabbing a hold of my chin and pulling my face towards his. In the middle of the hallway, the two of us engage in a kiss, and suddenly, PDA doesn't seem quite as bothersome as the other day.

Within moments of our affection, someone clears their throat behind us. Steve pulls back slowly, reluctantly, and his light colored eyes flicker to whomever is standing behind me. I follow his gaze, and to be completely honest, I'm a little surprised to Imogene standing with us.

Despite the fact that this is what we initially planned for her to do this morning.

She stares back at us with a growing smirk on her face. Silently, she crosses her arms, and as the seconds pass, I'm starting to believe no one is going to say a word.

Then, Steve asks the only thing logical to him right now: "Who's this?"

Imogene eases up; her smirk softens to a small smile. "I'm Eileen's sister, Imogene," she opens her arms – indicating she wants a hug. Steve stares at her weirdly, and he doesn't step forward until I give him a little nudge. "I'm guessing you're Eileen's boyfriend now?" She inquires, wrapping her arms around Steve's shoulders.

"Yeah, I'm Steve." He replies awkwardly, gingerly wrapping his arms around her waist. He pats her back a couple times before she starts to pull away from him.

"I know who you are," Imogene shares. "I've heard a lot about you too, and if you don't treat my baby sister right, I'll sick my twin brother on you." She points a finger at him, but he isn't fazed; Imogene's threat doesn't intimidate him in the least. "But you two are really cute, and don't worry, Steve. I'm sure Eileen's told you how much our parents don't like her hanging around with your gang, but your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks, I guess." Steve mumbles quietly, retreating to my side. Imogene continues to smile, and as one of her friends pass, it catches her eye.

"I have to run now. I'll see you back at home. I'll see you around, Steve." She waves quickly to us before hurrying off after Carolyn. Steve recognizes her, and in response, his face scrunches up in disgust.

"She hangs around Evie's older sister?"

XxXxXxX

Halfway through fourth period, the bell rings, signaling lunchtime. My class expresses their relief from the insanely hard test in various ways before racing for the door.

Mr Barnes doesn't even bother to try stopping them.

Soda waits for me across the hallway with a smile as big as Texas on his face. I smooth my skirt in the back while returning his smile. "Are ya ready to go find Steve and Sandy?" He asks happily. I nod my head, and together, we head off to find our other half.

Once we step into The Dingo, a blonde waitress is at our side, ready to lead us to our table. Soda and Sandy step in front of us; they grab each other's hands and follow behind the blonde girl. "You wanna tell 'em here? Or do you wanna wait?" I shrug my shoulders in response.

"I think we should tell them. If we don't, Sandy will probably kill me."

Sandy and Soda claim one side of the booth leaving Steve and I with the opposite. Our little, blonde leader announces the name of our waiter while distributing our menus. I feel bad. No one is really paying attention to her except me.

Steve is busy staring blankly at the table while the other two busy themselves in a conversation that I don't think I'd want to take part in. I give her a slight nod, offering her a small smile. She doesn't seem offended by our lack of interest, and with a smile of her own, she heads on her way.

My mind starts to wander, and I can't help but think back to Evie. Did I just ruin our growing friendship? Will she hate me after this stunt? Am I worrying myself for no reason?

Before I can think twice, I bring Steve into my thoughts.

"Do you think Evie's going to be mad about us?" Steve breaks free of his trance and looks at me. I can see he doesn't follow what I'm asking, leaving me with no choice but to explain my inner thoughts. "She's one of my friends, Steve, and now we're together. Do you think she's going to hate me after this?"

In response, he merely rolls his eyes.

"It don't matter what she thinks," he reasons. "She don't mean a thing, and I don't get why you're worryin' 'bout her so much. Evie broke up with me, so if she don't like us together, that's her own damn fault."

I can see his point as clear as the day, but it doesn't ease my thoughts any. Deep down, I still feel a bit guilty for dating my friend's ex-boyfriend.

"What're you two goin' on 'bout?" Soda asks curiously, breaking his attention from Sandy. Steve rolls his eyes and sighs heavily before explaining my concern to his best friend.

"She don't want to make Evie mad cause she said yes when I asked her to be my girl." Soda doesn't answer right away. Instead, he turns towards Sandy with a growing smile; she mirrors his face, and it's starting to freak me out. Slowly, Soda returns his attention to Steve.

"It's about damn time, Steve."

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><p>Please review. :) I will really appreciate it, and it really means a lot to me. I promise!<p> 


	12. Stick Around

**Sixteen Candles**  
><em>Chapter 12<em>

**Author's Note:** I'd like to give a big thank you to _only girl on the outside_ for reviewing! I'd also like to thank _fallenwriter2012_ for leaving me feedback as well. :)

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><p><strong><em>Three Months Later:<em>**

It's the beginning of February, and my relationship with Steve is progressing nicely. At this point, the two of us haven't had any serious problems, and if I'm being completely honest with myself, I'm surprised.

Sure, we've had our arguments here and there, but it's never accumulated to something serious enough that we've stopped talking to each other.

Evie reacted nicely to the news when she found out, but deep inside, I could see part of her die. She put on a nice act, pretending it didn't bother her, and she even told me she was happy for us.

To me, Evie seemed genuine.

At the moment, both of our lives were perfect, and I was hoping and praying and pleading that nothing would ruin this.

XxXxXxX

Thursday morning passes in the same fashion as every other morning; except today, Steve has a little tagalong named Sodapop Curtis.

Steve greets me with a quick kiss like usual, and once he pulls away, Soda begins explaining what the two have decided. "Good mornin', Miss Eileen," he greets, smiling. "Steve and I have somethin' we wanna talk to you 'bout." Soda nudges his best friend, telling him to take over with their proposition.

"Mrs Curtis wants you to come over for dinner tonight." Steve shares, watching me. He accepts my books when I hand them to him, and while I pull off my jacket, I think about the situation they've presented me with.

Am I comfortable enough to have dinner with him and Soda's whole family?

Before I can think twice, I find myself agreeing. Sodapop begins to express that I won't regret the decision I made before hurrying off to find his girlfriend. Even Steve cracks a grin, and once I'm finished at my locker, we head towards my first hour.

Steve even carries my books, and like Soda, he tells me that I won't regret agreeing.

XxXxXxX

Around 4:30, we arrive at the Curtis house. The driveway is empty, and if Soda wasn't sitting on the front porch, I would have assumed that no one is home. "Well," Steve comments, shutting his truck off alongside the curb. "Are you ready to go meet Soda's parents and my gang, Doll Face?" He inquires, setting his hand on my thigh.

"Steve Randle," I say, turning my attention towards him. I shoot him a glare, and in response, he grins. "I don't care if we're together, I don't want to be called that name." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head before opening his door and hopping out.

He opens the door for me and takes my hand, helping me out of his truck. "If I can't call you Doll Face, what am I suppose to call ya?" Steve inquires, shutting the door behind me. Before I have a chance to answer, he turns and starts leading the way towards the Curtis house.

"Good afternoon, you hooligans!" Soda calls, rising to his feet. Steve pushes the old, rickety metal gate open before pushing me through. "I told my mum that you were bringin' Eileen over for supper, and Steve, might I say that you better get her inside fast. Ma's real excited to meet her." Soda pulls his attention away from his best friend and looks at me. "Steve talks 'bout ya all the time, so you're no stranger to our house. My kid brother is even excited to meet ya."

"Okay, Soda, that's enough," Steve grumbles, pushing me towards the door. Sodapop laughs at his reaction, shaking his head slightly. "I don't talk 'bout ya all the time." He continues, holding the wooden, screen door open for me.

I step into the house awkwardly. Steve and Soda trail in behind me and after the door swings shut, Soda announces our presence – mainly my presence. It's more attention than I would like, but I feel flattered that his mom, and brother, appear so eager to meet me. "Mom, Steve and Eileen are here!"

"Soda, bring her into the kitchen!" Mrs Curtis calls back. "I'm busy fixing supper, and I don't want to leave the room." Soda takes the lead, and with Steve following close behind me, I follow Soda into the kitchen.

Standing at the stove is a woman a few inches taller than me and absolutely gorgeous – instantly, I know where Soda gets his good looks. Her blonde hair lays perfectly curled on her shoulders, and when she looks up at me, her warm, brown eyes meet mine, helping me relax a little.

"She's sure a gorgeous one, Steven," Mrs Curtis says. A smile starts to spread across her face, and like her eyes, it's warm and inviting. I can feel a blush creeping into my cheeks, and I'm only vaguely aware that Steve has stepped closer to me, setting his hand on the small of my back. "Hello, Sweetie, I'm Mrs Curtis. I've heard so much about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."

"Hi," I mutter back shyly, unintentionally stepping closer to Steve. "I'm Eileen. It's a pleasure to meet you too."

"Supper is almost done, Darling, so in the meantime, make yourself at home."

Soda and Steve pull me out of the kitchen and into the Curtis' front room. "Where are the guys comin' over?" Steve inquires, taking a seat on the couch. Soda claims the chair in line with the front door. Before Soda has a chance to answer, Steve looks towards me. "Pop a squat, Eileen. You look like you're 'bout to run out the door." He pats the space next to him, and with a defeated sigh, I sit down.

"Two-Bit should be on his way with Ponyboy and Johnny, and I ain't too sure 'bout Dally. I think he might be sleepin' off another hangover."

Their conversation fades out, leaving us in, what I consider, an uncomfortable silence.

I feel myself relaxing a little when Mrs Curtis calls Soda to the kitchen. He rises up from his seat and hurries off to his mother, and once he's out of sight, Steve wraps his arm around me. "What's wrong with ya? I ain't never seen you so scared." I merely shrug my shoulders, slowly falling against his body.

"I'm shy, Steve," I answer weakly, laying my head on his shoulder. "I'm not comfortable around all of these people." Steve chuckles a little, running his hand up and down my arm.

"They ain't gonna hurt ya," he shares. "And I'm gonna take a wild guess, and say that Mrs Curtis really likes you. I think she's finally happy to see another girl in the house." I look up at him, trying to contain my confusion.

"What about Sandy? I would imagine that she's over here a lot because of Soda."

"Not really," Steve replies truthfully. "She comes over every once in a great while, but when those two hang out, they usually go out somewhere. They're so far up each other's asses that they're constantly together, but I dunno where they go. They ain't never at her house or here."

"I'm glad we're not like that," I breathe out a sigh of relief. "I don't if I could handle seeing you all the time at my house." Steve rolls his eyes and pushes me away halfheartedly. All I can do is grin in return.

XxXxXxX

Mrs Curtis loiters around in the kitchen, waiting for her husband to get home. In the living room, all six boys – excluding Soda's older brother and Dallas – in Steve's gang have since arrived, and at the moment, a majority of them are screwing around – their idea of stalling to pass the time until Mr Curtis' arrival.

I remain seated on the couch, practicing the rules my mother taught me when I was a little child: "Don't speak unless spoken too" and "Be seen, not heard".

Beside me, two boys who look a bit younger than me appear to be practicing the same rules.

In the center of the floor, Steve is laying beside Two-Bit with the older greaser's head securely locked in a head lock. "Holler uncle, Two-Shit!" Steve commands, tightening his grip.

With as much noise as they're making, I'm surprised Mrs Curtis hasn't yelled at them.

Two-Bit grunts loudly in response. He struggles to break free from Steve's hold. "No!" Two-Bit finally answers, attempting to roll on top of Steve. He shifts positions, causing the elder to fall onto his back in defeat.

While watching them, I finally realize how rough Steve can be, and the amount of energy this boy has is ridiculous.

After torturing him for a few minutes, Steve releases Two-Bit. His eyes widen happily, and he crawls away from my boyfriend, gasping for air. Steve meets my eyes wearing a huge grin on his face.

Next to me, one of the boys stands up. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket before hurrying off down the hall. Once he's out of the way, the other boy is revealed, and despite the loud chaos going on around him, he's fully engrossed in a book.

_Call of the Wild_, to be exact.

"That book made me cry," I comment, hoping he heard me. "I could never imagine treating animals in such a way." He dog-ears a page and smiles weakly.

"I have to read it for school," he shares, looking towards me. "Despite the abuse and stuff, it's a pretty good book." I nod my head in agreement. "So, you're the new girl Steve continuously brags about?"

"I hope so," I say, trying to ignore the blush rising in my cheeks. "If there's another girl, I'm going to have to have a serious talk with him." With each passing second, I find myself starting to relax. "My name's Eileen." His eyes widen.

"Trust me, I know who you are. I swear, every damn second, Steve makes a comment about you. My names Ponyboy." I start to grin ignoring his comment about Steve all together.

"I like it," I announce. "I like how unique it is like Soda's." The tips of his ear redden, and he bows his head. From my angle, it looks as if he's biting back a grin.

By this time, the other boy returns. Ponyboy looks up at him with a smile on his face. "This here's Johnny Cade. He don't talk too much. Johnny, this is Steve's girl, Eileen."

"Hi, nice to meet you." Johnny greets quietly, turning his attention towards the ground. I find myself starting to smile; if I'm being completely honest, I find it a little cute how quiet Johnny is.

The front door squeaks open, and like everyone else, I turn my attention towards the door, looking at the two men that just entered the house. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the two were twins. "Hello, Boys," The taller one greets, looking around the front room. Once his eyes settle on me, his eyebrow raises slightly in confusion. "Well, hello, Darling. I'm sorry. I didn't see you there." Soda presses his back up against one of the two chairs.

"Dad, this is Steve's girl, Eileen. Eileen, this is my dad and older brother, Darry." They both greet me before walking together to the kitchen; no doubt to greet Mrs Curtis.

Once they're out of sight, everyone continues doing what they were prior to Mrs Curtis and Darry's arrival.

XxXxXxX

Mrs Curtis' sweet voice calls into the front room, announcing that supper is done and is ready to be served. Upon hearing this news, all seven boys jump up before running into the kitchen – except Steve. He hangs back, waiting for me with a smile on his face. "How're ya doin'?" He inquires, slinging his arm around my shoulder.

"I feel better than earlier," I answer, following his lead to the table. "I'm getting along great with Soda's younger brother. He's really cool." Steve rolls his eyes.

"If you insist." He mutters bitterly.

I'm taken aback by his comment, and before I have time to dwell on whatever he meant by it, we've reached the table. All of the boys were kind enough to leave two open seats next to each other, and seeing as how they're the only seats left, Steve and I silently claim them.

On my left is, none other than, Ponyboy.

Steve takes my plate and gathers food for me. On the other side, squished in between Soda and Johnny, Two-Bit is grinning like nothing I've ever seen, and I'm fully aware that he wants to tease Steve for his chivalry.

Next to his dad, Darry eyes me, chewing his food slowly. His gaze periodically switches to Steve, and once his food is swallowed, he opens his mouth to speak. "So, how'd a pretty girl like you end up with a hood like Steve?" Darry asks teasingly. He looks me straight in the eyes, possessing absolutely no emotion.

I can feel myself starting to get beyond nervous all over again, and I'm not too sure I'll be able to answer without making a fool of myself.

"I don't know, really," I begin, accepting my plate from Steve. "He's in a few of my classes, and one day, he decided to start sitting by me, and it's all gone downhill since then." Steve rolls his eyes at my joke, but I manage to get Darry, Ponyboy, Soda and Two-Bit to grin, so I'll take it.

Even Mr and Mrs Curtis chuckle quietly at my comment.

"I'm kidding," I smile, setting my hand on his back. He doesn't look my way; instead, he continues filling his plate with food. "Steve's a good guy, and I wouldn't trade him for anything in the world." Mrs Curtis stares at us, unsuccessfully holding back a grin.

Dinner with the Curtis family remains rather uneventful. Everyone, aside from Soda and Steve, ask me questions, trying to get a feel for me, and once dinner is over, the group heads into the front room to hang out for a bit.

Mrs Curtis is left alone with clearing the table and dishes, and I feel obligated to help her, but once I start stacking plates, she playfully scolds me and tells me she'll be fine. Then, with a smile on her face, she sends me back to Steve's side.

Around 8:00, Steve says good-bye to his friends, and after they return the farewell, to not only Steve but me as well, we head out.

"I'd say they really like ya." Steve grins, pulling the gate open. I find myself starting to smile, but when the thought of him meeting my family crosses my mind, I suddenly feel sick.

There is no way that it's going to end well.

XxXxXxX

My parents seem more than happy with the idea of finally meeting this mystery boy I've been "hanging out" with since the beginning of the year – basically. I fake a smile, pretending that I'm just as excited as them.

Deep inside, I'm not; in fact, I fear the moment Steve arrives at our house.

Mom and Dad are still unaware that we've been a couple for the last three months; they're also oblivious to the fact that my boyfriend is a greaser – a greaser they haven't heard good things about.

Imogene was in the kitchen when I asked my parents, and once I put my inquiry forward, her dark brown eyes widened, and she looks at me, shooting me a look as if to say: _are you sure you're doing the right thing?_

Mom looked more than happy with my invitation and agreed almost immediately. As for Dad, he was a little more apprehensive with the idea – a clear sign that his little girl is growing up – but after throwing him my infamous puppy dog eyes, he caved.

Once I got their permission, I raced off to call Steve – being extra careful not to let him name slip out during our conversation.

He was set to arrive at 5:30, and with each passing minute, I grew more nauseous.

Steve was to arrive any minute, and after this little stunt, I was surely going to get grounded until I'm only enough to emancipate.

It's nearly 5:40, and Steve still isn't here. My stomach grows weaker with each passing moment, and if he doesn't show up soon, my nerves are going to eat me alive.

I take a seat on the couch, watching out the front window. Seconds later, Imogene emerges from within the depths of the hallway, and silently claims the seat beside me. "You look like you've seen a ghost," she comments. "Are you okay?" My oldest sibling throws her arm around my shoulder, waiting for my response.

I sigh heavily.

"I don't think so, Imogene," I answer, keeping my attention fixed on the road. "Our parents are about to meet a boy I'm not even suppose to associate with, and on top of figuring out I disobeyed them, they're going to learn I have a boyfriend." I shake my head slowly, burying my face in my hands. "I feel like I'm going to throw up." I mutter. My words catch on the palms of my hands, and it probably sounds like I'm speaking nonsense.

"I'll be right by your side if you want," she offers, setting her hand on my back. "I'll tell them that I've met him before, and that he's a cool." In the midst of our conversation, the door bell rings. Mom shouts to open the door, and after swallowing the nervous vomit climbing up my throat, I comply with her request.

"Hey," Steve greets, showing off a little grin. He leans forward, pressing a simple kiss to my cheek, and when he pulls back, he holds his arm up – displaying a bouquet of flower of various colors. "I, uh, bought your mum some flowers. I ain't sure if it'll help the, um, situation or not." I offer him a weak smile in return for his friendly gesture.

"Eileen, is this that boy you mentioned?" Mom calls again. I step out of his way, allowing him entrance into my house – the first time he's been in my house with my parents' acknowledgement.

"Steve, you remember my sister, Imogene," I lock arms with him while reintroducing him to my older sister. "Imogene, you obviously remember Steve." She raises her hand to wave at him, and appearing more relaxed then the last time they met, he returns her greeting.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Steve Randle."

"Likewise, Imogene."

"Well, Eileen, bring the boy in here. I want to see him!" Mom adds, growing impatient at my poor attempt of stalling. I sigh again, pulling Steve next to me as we leave the front room and enter the kitchen.

Inside the kitchen, Mom is wiping her hands off with the towel, and to my surprise, the smile on her face doesn't falter once she sees him. "Mom, this is Steven Randle."

"Good evenin', Ms Beasley," Steve greets, following beside me as we step farther into the kitchen. He thrust his arm forward, showing off the display of flowers he bought for her. "I brought you some flowers."

Her mouth drops in awe, and I know Steve just scored some brownie points. If my mom has a sweet spot for anything, it's flowers. If my siblings, Dad and I would let her, she'd be a major flower hoarder, and if she was on her own, that's exactly what would become of her.

"Oh, Steven," she begins breathlessly. "My heavens, these are absolutely beautiful." She reaches forward, accepting the bouquet. Steve looks down at me, silently asking for an evaluation of how his acceptance to the family is going. I smile, nodding my head slowly, telling him he's on the right road. "Thank you so much, Sweetie." Mom turns, ready to treat her newly acquired flowers to a big vase of water.

When her back is turned, I rush Steve off to my bedroom.

"I think you've won my mom over," I tell him, shutting the door behind me. Steve takes a seat on my bed, looking towards me, waiting for me to continue. "But you still have to meet my dad and brother, and it's going to be harder to win their acceptance." I lazily make my way over to my bed, plopping down beside Steve. I set my hand on his back, looking up at him happily. "I believe you can do it."

Nearly 20 minutes later, Mom calls the family, and Steve, to dinner. I take a deep breath, willing myself to relax, but no matter how many deep breaths I take, the urge to vomits grows more intense.

Steve stands up from my bed, slipping an arm around my waist. "I think you better relax cause you look like you're gonna hurl." I fall into his side, burying my face in his chest.

"I'm scared this is going to end badly, Steve." He starts leading us towards the door. Reaching for the handle, he sighs quietly.

"I guess we ain't gonna know unless we go out there."

My whole family is already at the table, talking quietly and waiting for our guest and me. "Sorry we took so long." I apologize, stepping towards the table. Steve follows behind me, claiming the seat next to Mom; I get to sit next to Imogene.

Douglas looks up from his plate, and as soon as he recognizes Steve, his eyes narrow angrily. "What're you doing here?" He hisses, squeezing his fork tightly. Mom opens her mouth to scold him, but Dad quickly interject.

"Eileen, do you mind introducing us to your friend?" Dad inquires slowly, eyeing Steve, attempting to get a feel for him.

"Daddy, this is Steven Randle," I share sweetly, giving my father a happy grin. I turn my attention towards Douglas, and once our eyes meet, my happy expression turns to absolutely nothing. "He's a greaser." I deadpan, staring straight into Doug's eyes.

He rolls his eyes, holding back a groan of disgust. "Dad," Douglas whines, throwing his fork down. "I thought you told her to stay away from those hoods?" Dad nods his head slowly.

"Yes, that's true," he agrees, looking at me. "Eileen, I do believe your mother and I told you to stay away from the East side kids." Dad turns his attention back towards Steve. "And I see you clearly disobeyed us." Steve shrinks back in his seat, desperate to get out of the tension filled conversation. I don't doubt he's feeling a little awkward too.

"But Dad, Mom likes him." I whine, hoping my mother gets the hint to help me out. She sets her napkin down neatly on the table, leaning forward.

"Yes, Honey, he does seem like a nice boy." Mom shares, setting her hand on top of Dad's. I bite my lips, trying not to laugh at the fact that Mom wrongly described him as nice. In fact, the term _rarely_ applies to him.

Instead, Douglas voices my inner comments.

"Steve Randle is anything but nice." Douglas scoffs, taking about my boyfriend like he's not even there. He picks his eating utensil back up and glare hatefully at Steve.

"He's nice to me," I stop short, wondering how to continue. Imogene sets her hand on my thigh, reminding me that she's here too, and silently encouraging me to tell my parents we're a couple. Swallowing hard, that's exactly what I do. "He's the best boyfriend I've ever had." Douglas and Dad's heads snap towards us.

"Eileen, I swear to fucking God if you're serious," Douglas growls, tightening his grip on the fork. Mom starts to scold his use of language, but it falls on deaf ears. "If you think I'm going to let you get away with dating a no good hood, you're sadly mistaken."

From the corner of my eye, I can see Steve trying to hold himself back. I can tell Douglas' comments are making him furious, and I know he's trying to refrain from doing anything that'll earn him even more disapproval from my dad.

Instead, he pushes his chair back and rises to his feet abruptly.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stay long, Mrs Beasley, but thanks for dinner anyway." he pushes his chair in gently before turning sharply and leaving the scene silently. When Steve's out of sight, I turn towards my brother, giving him the most hateful look I can muster.

And with as irate as I am now, it's not that hard.

I kick my chair back angrily, rising to my feet and racing after Steve. Behind me, I can hear my dad expressing his thoughts on my greaser, and from the words that actually process successfully in my head, none of it sounds too good.

In other words, my dad and brother are strongly against Steve.

"Steve, wait up." I call, stepping out of the house. He stops short a few feet from his truck and turns angrily.

"What the hell do you want?" He growls, clenching his fists tightly.

"I want to apologize for my asshole brother," I answer, easing up. I step towards him gingerly. "He's an idiot that doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut, but his opinion on you doesn't matter."

"I don't give two shits 'bout him," Steve shares, still visibly furious. "It's your dad. I wanted to earn his approval, but God forbid that should happen." Past his tough exterior, it's finally clear to me.

Steve wants a fatherly figure in his life that actually cares about him. If everything would have gone well tonight, he could've been given that.

Now, it's going to take a lot due to my brother.

"I'm really sorry, Steve." I frown, moving closer. Steve meets me halfway, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"It ain't your fault, Doll Face," He whispers, seemingly more relaxed than moments prior. Although I can't stand the nickname, I let it slide. For once, it doesn't sound as awful as the first time I heard it. "I should probably be headin' off now. I'll see you Monday at school." Steve closes the gap between us, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. It lasts a second or two, but when we separate, I can't help but smile.

He pulls out of my grip, and with a final good-bye, he starts for his truck. I watch him the whole way silently, thinking of ways to get my dad to give Steve another chance. Before he reaches his truck, I call out to him.

"Don't worry, Steve. I'll talk to my dad, and I promise I'll fix it."

* * *

><p>Oh, glory. I didn't realize this chapter was as long as it was, but I hope you didn't find it too boring. I promise the next chapter will be more interesting. :) Please review! I would love to hear from you all.<p> 


	13. Long, Long Way from Home

**So, I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this chapter. I've already written it twice now, and out of the two versions, this one is ****_so_**** much better. I would rewrite it again, but I don't feel like that would help my case anyway. Oh, by the way, I hope you're all ready because her life is about to get stressful. :) I hope you're all as excited as I am!**

**I'm sorry that this chapter is short compared to the last one!**

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><p>Douglas drops me off, and as soon as my feet hit the concrete and his door is shut, he speeds off – not even bothering to see if I make it safely into the house. Mom and Dad were too eager to let me come to Evie's house for a sleepover, but once I told them she wasn't as bad as Imogene initially thought, they eased up a bit.<p>

It only took a couple more times of asking that they finally agreed.

My heart is pounding hard against my chest; my knees feel like they're going to give out on me. As I step closer to the house, the urge to throw up grows stronger, but why am I so nervous? Evie's my friend.

Surely it's all relating to Steve.

But, Sandy's going to be here, and that thought alone provides a little reassurance that nothing bad is going to emerge.

Without realizing it, I arrive at the front door. Hesitantly, I reach forward, knocking as loudly as I can. My nerves are running high as I settle back on my feet, and for a split second, I'm petrified that I'm at the wrong house.

Moments later, Evie's older sister, her other sister, opens the door.

Like Evie, her sister is absolutely gorgeous. She has dark brown hair that falls to the middle of her rib cage, and her green eyes twinkle happily. She doesn't look like a typical greaser girl. But, nonetheless, her appearance makes me feel a little self-conscious about myself, and I'm desperate for when I can get out of her sight.

She stares at me, and although we've never met, she allows her perfect, white smile to grace her face. "I'm guessing you're Eileen, Evie's friend?" She questions. Weakly, I nod my head, averting my eyes downward, focusing on my shoes. "I'm Amelia, Evie's oldest sister. I'll let her know you're here. Here, come on inside." Amelia steps out of the doorway, wandering off to wherever.

Shutting the door behind me, I wait silently for my friend. From their living room, Evie's mom greets me; I respond with a mere wave, and despite the fact that she seems content with my response, I swear at myself for being so shy.

Evie comes running into the entryway moments later with Sandy trailing behind her happily. "Eileen!" Evie cries, wrapping her arms around me tightly when she reaches me. "It's about time you got here!" Sandy smiles, showing off her teeth and nodding her head in agreement.

"Hi, Guys." I greet, giving them a softer and calmer smile. Evie pulls away from me, grinning, and reaches for my pillow and overnight bag.

"We're going to have so much fun tonight, Ladies," Evie declares, holding my pillow underneath her arm. She slings my backpack onto her shoulder and turns on the ball of her right foot. "We're going to have so much fun tonight that it's going to drive our boyfriends wild when we don't tell them a thing." Sandy giggles quietly to herself before following our friend.

Evie leads us into another room, and off the kitchen is a door. My mind wanders, wondering if Evie's room is through that door, and when it is, I'm a bit amazed. I've never seen anything like this, and with as much as I like food, it's one of the coolest things I have ever seen.

She pushes the door open, and honestly, the interior of Evie's room surprises me.

Her walls are pink, and several posters of boys I don't recognize clutter the walls; above her beds are pictures of her and her friends and the picture of her and Steve makes me a bit uncomfortable. Deep inside, I hope, pray and plead that nothing happens tonight that will permanently ruin our friendship.

Evie tosses my stuff onto her bed alongside Sandy's before turning to address both of us. With a growing smile on her face, she asks if we're ready to continue the conversation they were having. I look at her in confusion; Sandy laughs quietly. "We were talking about boys before you came, Eileen." Evie shares, taking a seat on her floor. Sandy follows her lead, but I remain on my feet.

"Come on, Eileen," Sandy says, patting the floor beside her. "You don't have to be shy." I feel a little awkward knowing that I am, no doubt, about to talk about my boyfriend with one of his ex's. Evie grins, knowing exactly what's going through my head.

"Eileen," she begins. "I don't understand why you're still awkward around me when the idea of Steve is mentioned. I'm with Brian, and besides, you two are way cuter than we ever were. I think you two are meant to be." I feel myself doing a double take, making sure I heard her correctly. Evie notices and starts to laugh hard.

But inside, I realize how big of her that was.

In past times, I've heard my sister mutter rude things about girls that her crush hangs around or dates; once, she even told me how ugly she thought he looked with one of his girlfriends.

To hear Evie say this is big, and I can't believe my ears. And finally, I don't feel nearly as awkward as I had felt before.

Without even realizing it, I feel myself relaxing.

It's nearly 9:30 when Evie proposes that we sneak into the kitchen to steal some ice cream. Sandy agrees immediately, and I find myself struggling to contain my excitement. Sandy leads the way, leaving me to believe that she's been here more times than she can count, and once we're in the kitchen, Evie heads for their chest freezer. "I don't think my mom will mind that some ice cream is missing," She pulls the top up, reaching inside and pulling out a giant tub of chocolate ice cream. "We might not have a lot of money, but my mom never cheats us out of ice cream." She turns towards me, winking.

I feel myself wanting to drool. Mom never buys us ice cream, and now that there's an entire tub sitting in front of me, I want nothing more to do than curl up on something comfortable and devour the whole thing.

Evie places it gently on the counter before pulling open a cabinet. Inside, a stack of bowls sits perfectly, and as carefully as she can, Evie pulls three out. Sandy takes the liberty to grab the spoons, and before I know it, we're all crowding around the tub, eager to fill our bowls with the creamy goodness.

I know that ice cream isn't exactly healthy for a person's body, and there's a slight change I might have ignored this fact when I was scooping my ice cream into my bowl. I take more than Sandy and Evie, and when they seem how much I have, they start laughing – hard. "Holy shit, Eileen," Evie laughs. "It's like you ain't never had ice cream before." I stick a spoonful into my mouth, wearing a smile showing them I don't regret how much I grabbed.

"My mom never buys my family ice cream," I explain, wiping the corners of my mouth. "So, I'm taking full advantage of it while the opportunity still hangs in the air." Sandy continues laughing while Evie playfully rolls her eyes.

Once we have all the ice cream we want, we head back to Evie's room. We spend the rest of the night gossiping, talking about boys and playing childish, middle school games.

Nonetheless, the whole night is nothing but fun.

XxXxXxX

Despite the various protests and complaints from Sandy and Evie, I walk home by myself the next day. I'm sure Steve wouldn't be too happy if he knew what I was doing, but seeing as how I have no other means of transportation, I have to take what I can.

Prior to my departure, I called my house. Imogene answered, and when I asked her to come pick me up, she told me that she was home alone and without a car.

I reach my house around 6:00, and as it was when I called half an hour ago, Imogene is still the only one home.

Inside, I can hear her rumbling through stuff in the kitchen. "Imogene, I'm home." I announce, shutting the door quietly. She doesn't answer me, so I set my stuff down gently before going to greet her face to face.

She sets a handful of cookies down gently on the counter, and right away, something seems off with her. "Hey, where is everyone?" In response, she merely shrugs, picking up a cookie. Imogene bites into it silently – slowly – and her odd behavior is starting to scare me. "What's wrong?" I question, searching her face for any indication. "You don't look like you're feeling right."

"Eileen, there's something we need to talk about," she shares quietly. "I think you should probably take a seat too." I follow her suggestion, taking a seat at our table. Imogene starts towards me at a slow pace, and once she reaches me, Imogene takes a seat too.

"Will you tell me what's going on because you're really starting to scare me." I watch my sister, waiting for her next action. Before she tells me what's going on, she takes another bite of her cookie. For a second or two, I wonder if she's wondering how to break whatever news she has to tell me.

"I think something's wrong with Steve," she begins. Part of me wonders why she cares about Steve, but before I have time to dwell on it, Imogene continues. "He called the house a couple times earlier, asking for you, but he didn't sound right." My heart drops into my stomach; I will myself not to start freaking out until I find out what's actually wrong rather than relying on conclusions I'm jumping to. "He wants you to call him as soon as you can. I don't think you should leave him waiting any longer." I thank her quickly before leaping up and racing to the phone.

Without thinking of the possibility of his father answering, I dial Steve's home phone.

On the fourth ring, someone answers – Steve answers. For the most part, his voice sounds normal, and I'm trying my best to keep my voice stable. "S-Steve, hey, what's g-going on? What's w-wrong?" I stop myself, taking a deep breath and attempting to calm myself down before I get too worked up.

Steve sighs loudly, and through his voice, I can hear how shaky his breathing is.

"L-Listen, Eileen, m-meet me in the p-park in 10 m-minutes, okay?" Before I have a change to answer, Steve hangs up, and I can feel myself wanting to panic.

His voice was nothing but emotionless, and although there's nothing to base my thoughts on, I can tell this conversation isn't going to be fun.

And the more I dwell on what's to come, the more noticeable the knot in my stomach becomes.

While still trying to make sense of the situation, I stalk off to the front room, telling Imogene where I'll be before heading out.

Surely this isn't going to be a good nor fun conversation.

Aside from a couple children and their parents, hardly anyone is at the park. I take a seat at one of the many picnic tables, trying to keep my mind off what's possibly to come. It's been at least 15 minutes since our phone conversation, and Steve still isn't here. With each passing second, I strongly consider running away and feeding him a crappy excuse later.

But before I can act, Steve comes into view. I stare hard at him while slowly rising to my feet; something seems off with his appearance, but I can't put my finger on it. He's seemingly incapable of walking in a straight line, and as he draws closer, I can tell instantly what's wrong.

His clothes are an absolute mess, there's not a trace of grease in his hair, and his clothes reek of alcohol. My nose scrunches in disgust, but there's not a doubt in my mind telling me that whatever has happened is more serious than I was preparing myself for.

I decide to remain rooted, and after a few moments, he makes it to my side. I focus my attention on him, trying my best not to double over and hurl due to how strong the alcohol scent on him is. It's incredibly difficult, but for the most part, I think I succeed.

He pushes his hair out of his face and fails to meet my eyes. "Steve, what's wrong?" I ask, swallowing hard. "Something's wrong. What's wrong?" Steve hesitates, and I can see his chest expand as he takes a deep breath.

"S-Soda's parents a-are de-dead." His voice cracks. His eyes swim in tears, and my heart stops, falling hard into my stomach. For a second, I think it's a joke, but when Steve finally meets my eyes, and when I see that he's on the verge of tears, I know it's nothing but true.

Honestly, I can't believe it.

"W-What?" I ask incredulously, hoping to remain strong for him. "How? They can't be. Steve, no, God, how? We just saw them last week!" Millions of thoughts are running through my head at the moment, and I can't think straight to save my life.

"I-I don't know!" Steve cries. His voice cracks once again, and a waterfall of tears rains down his cheeks. His rare display of emotion catches me off guard, but I do the only logical thing I can think of: wrap my arms around him.

Steve responds positively to my physical contact. He wraps his arms around me, burying his face in half of his arm and half of my shoulder. "Come on, let's go sit down." I suggest. As best as I can, I sit him down at the picnic table behind us.

Once I'm situated, I pull my arms away from him and opt to wrapping my arm around his shoulders instead. He lays his head on my shoulder, still silently crying. "Do you think you're capable of explaining everything you know to me?" I question softly, running my fingers through his soft hair. Steve whimpers quietly before launching into his story.

"I-I don't know," he begins. "La-last night they went out for d-dinner together. S-Soda said that it was 'r-round one o'clock, and th-they still weren't home. Then, the f-fuzz came over. S-Soda said that he told 'em that t-their car'd be hit by a t-train. Mrs C-Curtis was gone when ev-everyone arrived, and Mr Curtis died on the way to the h-hospital." I can feel his tears soaking into my blouse, and my heart breaks seeing him in such a vulnerable state.

I stare off into oblivion, doing the best that I can to calm and comfort Steve while struggling to wrap my head around everything that's occurred within his arrival. It still seems too surreal.

"Shh, Steve," I whisper, continuing to run my fingers through his hair. I close my eyes, proceeding to reassure that everything will be okay, but to no avail, it fails. Once again, my brain registers the stench of alcohol, and I can't help but voice my next question. "Hey, have you been drinking today?" He nods his head weakly, and with a forced chuckle, I lay my head on top of his. "I can tell. I smell the alcohol on your clothes."

"I spilt it on myself." Steve shares quietly, continuing to shed tears.

My mind wanders once the thought begins to sink in. Occasionally, I find myself thinking about Soda, Darry and Pony. If Steve is reacting this strongly, then I'd hate to see them. I sigh gently, freeing my hand from his hair. "It's going to be all right, Steve." I whisper, gently rubbing his back.

Until now, I never truly understood what it meant when they say people can be gone in a blink of an eye, and deep inside, my heart longs for Sodapop and his brothers.

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><p><strong>I'm really nervous about this chapter, and even though Steve was drunk, I'm still afraid of his reaction to the news. Either way, I hope you guys liked this chapter, and if you did, please, don't hesitate to leave me a review. I love hearing from you guys, and I really appreciate the feedback. :)<strong>


	14. A Night to Remember

**So, no one reviewed the last chapter or the chapter before that ((well, no one left a legitimate review for chapter 12)). That's really depressing, and if you are enjoying this story, please review. I really appreciate when you guys leave me feedback, and right now, I have no motivation to complete the next chapter. Whether you all realize it or not, your feedback really helps me. :)**

**But yeah, I'm really sorry for sounding like a whiny, ungrateful person, but please consider things from my point of view. It's not the best feeling in the world when you share things with other people, and they don't even tell you how it is. Please review?**

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><p>Steve is still stuck in an emotionless trance on Monday morning, and all I want to do is see the Steve I'm so use to. "Cheer up, Sweetie," despite my initial thoughts on PDA, I wrap my arms around his waist, squeezing him gently. "It's rough, I know, but I promise it'll get better."<p>

From what I know Soda and Ponyboy aren't at school, and I'm a little surprised Steve is even at school. Seeing the way their parents had bonded with the other boys made it clear to me that they were second parents too all of the boys – even proving to be the parents Steve, Dallas and Johnny lack.

He responds with a gentle sigh, returning my hug. Steve doesn't mutter a single word to me, and once he pulls away, he walks out silently. I watch his back, and once he disappears down another hall, I head into my Spanish class.

On the chalkboard, one of the Soc girls is writing down our warm-up, and stifling a heavy sigh, I grab a sheet of our teacher's homemade opening work paper. This week, another skull is decorating the top left corner – along with the word "calentamiento".

I claim a seat at the empty table right in the back of the classroom. Normally, I'm right in the front, eager to learn more about another language, but today, I'm not exactly in a learning mood.

Once she's finished, the West side princess sets the chalk back onto the ledge, dusts her hands off before rejoining her friends at the socially elite table in the classroom. After pulling the required objects out of my bag, I prepare my surroundings and prepare myself for class to begin. Turning my attention towards our warm-up, I groan.

We're required to fill in the blanks with either the preterite or imperfect term – a concept I have trouble grasping.

Before I have an actual change to begin, James Carrigan, a boy from the middle class, strolls over to the four empty seats surrounding me, and he's not alone; his pesky group of immature friends is following behind him – how they all managed to end up in the same Spanish class is still a mystery.

His whole clan is laughing, but I refuse to give them my attention; instead, I silently work on my class work. "Hey, Babe," James greets, taking a seat beside me. "How're you doing on this fine morning?" I continue to ignore him, and when he realizes what I'm doing, he proceeds with the comments. Then, from the corner of my eye, I can see him exchanging glances with his friends with a sly smirk on his face. "So, I don't know if anyone's told you this or not, Eileen, but your shirt is tight in _all_ the right places." His friends erupt in laughter; James joins them, and when he sets his hand on my back, I feel myself tensing up.

He's making me extremely uncomfortable, and I wish Steve was here to tell him to back off. Unfortunately, he's not, so I'm left to fend for myself.

I roll my eyes in response to his comment, hoping he can't see how I'm actually feeling. I have a bad feeling it'll fuel his desire to continue cracking comments if he realizes how uncomfortable they're making me. "Why are you even here, James?" I finally ask, forcing myself to look him in the eyes. "Don't you and your friends have somewhere else to be?"

"Come on, a fine babe like yourself shouldn't be sitting all alone." He answers casually. I shoot him a disgusted look while trying to ignore the sounds of his friends' laughter; honestly, it makes me a little mad. They're encouraging him to continue, and at this point, I don't want to hear anything else he has to say.

James is proving to be a pig.

"I'm fine by myself, thank you," I respond, breaking eye contact. "Besides, I have a boyfriend, and I don't think he'll be too thrilled to hear that you're bothering me." He doesn't seem fazed with my indirect mention of Steve, and it leads me to wonder if he even knows who Steve Randle is.

"Come on, Eileen, don't be that way. What he doesn't know won't hurt him." James whispers, leaning closer to me. I roll my eyes, groaning loudly and scribbling down poor excuses for answers on my Spanish assignment.

Part of me considers telling Steve about the antics James Carrigan decided to play this period, and I almost talk myself into it until I realize he has bigger problems than this, and it wouldn't be right of me to add onto his stress – especially with something as simple as an immature boy.

Silently, I vow to keep this incident to myself.

XxXxXxX

He stalks into algebra looking a bit better than earlier but not quite up to his usual standards. "How're you feeling?" I question, setting my pencil on top of our shared table. Steve sits beside me, shrugging his shoulders.

"I'm real tired," he sighs, pulling out his battered up notebook. "I'm real tired of school too, and Mr Barnes sure is a pain in my ass. Hey, did you finish the homework from Friday? I was gonna do it yesterday, but I forgot." I nod my head, wordlessly pulling it out of my folder. Steve watches me the whole time, and he even offers me a small smile when I hand it his way.

"Don't let Mr Anderson catch you with it though," I warn. "I'm not exactly in the mood to receive a zero on an assignment." Steve rolls his eyes but copies down the work and answers.

"Hey, you think you're gonna be busy tomorrow night?" Steve asks me, not looking up from the homework. My mind wanders, scanning my mental agenda; as far as I know, I'm as free as a bird tomorrow night.

"No, I don't think I have anything to do. How come?" I watch him scribble down answers. He groans loudly when he makes a mistake, and instead of erasing it, he merely scribbles it out.

"Soda and his brothers are hosting a dinner tomorrow night to celebrate their parents' lives and discuss what's goin' on with their funeral. Sandy, Sylvia and Two-Bit's girl, Kathy, are comin' too, so I figured I'd ask if ya wanted to come too." Steve stops writing and looks up at me, waiting for a response.

"Yeah, sure, I'll come." Steve starts to grin, seemingly gleeful that I agreed to accompany him at a get together – a get together that's going to be one of the hardest in the near future.

"Great, I'll let Soda know, and I'll pick you up around 6:00 tomorrow evenin'."

XxXxXxX

Monday and Tuesday breeze by, and around 4:00, I finally decide to ask my mom if I can go to Soda's house for dinner. Dad is in the kitchen with her while Douglas sits silently at the table, towering over his homework. Imogene is no where in sight. "Hey, Mom, can I ask you something?" She nods her head, busily scrubbing the dishes.

"Steve asked me to if I wanted to join him and his friends for dinner at Soda's house. Is it all right with you if I go?" Mom opens her mouth to answer, but before she can say a single word, Dad intervenes; I'm well aware that I've captured Douglas' attention as well.

"Eileen, I don't know if that's such a good idea." Dad begins. Absentmindedly, I roll my eyes, knowing exactly where this is going. Following Dad's thought, Douglas feels the need to throw his own comment into the conversation.

"No, Dad, it's not a good idea," he argues. "Those greasers are no good, and she shouldn't even be hanging around them." Dad closes him mouth, pondering what my brother just said.

"Mom," I whine. "They're not bad people, and if they were, Steve wouldn't purposely let me get hurt. He'd at least protect me." Douglas laughs humorlessly, and it takes me everything I have to not flip him the bird.

"I still don't know, Sis." Dad begins slowly.

"Oh, Richard, she has a point," Mom finally says. "Steve wouldn't take our little girl somewhere she could get hurt, and like she said, if there's any pose of danger, Steve is going to protect her." Dad squints his eyes, thinking hard on how to answer.

Finally, he sighs.

"I'm still not fond of that boy, but if your mother is all right with it, then yes, you can go out with Steve tonight." Dad doesn't sound too thrilled with his decision, and when Douglas shoots him a dirty look, I'm well aware that he wholeheartedly disagrees with the outcome.

I couldn't care less.

I thank them happily, failing to contain my happiness – my happiness that's emerging from the idea of getting to spend more time with Steve – despite the reason for this dinner with him and his friends.

Steve picks me up at 6:00 on the dot like he had promised, and after saying a quick good-bye to my family, I join him outside my house. "Hey, I don't look overdressed do I? I figured I should look nice, and my sister told me this would be fine to wear."

Imogene pulled a simple, plain black dress from her closet along with a pair of her black flats. She tossed me a simple necklace and earrings, and once I was finished dressing myself, she gave me her approval.

But inside, I feel overdressed.

He shakes his head, looking down my body slowly. "Nah," Steve answers. "I think you look real damn good." My cheeks flush red, and a comment like that was definitely not what I was expecting. Steve reaches his truck and pulls the door open for me. "Ladies first." He says, holding out his hand. I take it gratefully, hoisting myself up. Steve offers his support, and once I'm inside the truck, he heads for the driver's side.

On the inside, I pray that tonight isn't as sad as I'm anticipating it to be.

When we arrive, the house is extremely quiet compared to the first time I was over, and it's not surprising that Soda, Two-Bit, Pony and Johnny are merely playing "Go Fish" to occupy themselves and distract their brains from the sadness that's be engulfing them the past few days. Sandy, Kathy, Sylvia and Dallas watch them blankly.

Kathy doesn't exactly introduce herself to me, but given the setting, I don't blame her. All I can base her on is her appearance, and for the most part, she looks like she'd be a nice girl. Her gorgeous blonde hair is tied back in a braid, and despite the sadness in the atmosphere, her blue eyes are still lively.

All in all, she's very pretty.

Steve claims a seat in one of the chairs, patting his knee, indicating that he wants me to join him. I do so silently, and when I look into the kitchen, I find Soda's other brother leaning over the sink, with his face in his hands and elbows stretched apart. "Is anyone helping Darry with dinner?" I question quietly, falling back into Steve's chest. He wraps his arm around my waist and shrugs in response. "Do you think someone should go help him? I feel bad." I start to pull out of his grip which results in his protests. "Steve, someone should go help him. It's not fair that he has to make supper for at least 10 people."

Without another word, Steve releases me.

Inside the kitchen, I can see a big pot full of water and spaghetti noodles and another pot containing sauce. "Hey, Darry," I greet, unintentionally startling him. He turns around slowly, and when he recognizes me, a small smile fills his face. "I came to help you."

Part of me expects him to argue with me, claiming he's perfectly capable of making all of the food, so it's a bit of a shock when he accepts my offering with open arms.

Darry asks me to make the boys a chocolate cake, and if I say so myself, it turned out pretty damn good.

XxXxXxX

After we all finish our meals, Darry brings forward the chocolate cake, verbally announcing to everyone that I was the one that made it – with minimal help from Darry of course. Steve squeezes my thigh gently as pieces are distributed.

Once Soda has his piece, a smile starts to grow on his face. Sandy nudges him gently, giving him a look that asks what's up, and after Soda takes a bite of the cake, he launches into a story. "Remember when we convinced Mom to let us have cake with our breakfast?" Darry cracks a small grin, barely nodding his head.

"Dad was even on board for the idea, and after convincing her that she wanted it as much as we did, she caved." Darry adds, covering the cake back up. Next to Soda, Pony smiles, wiping at the tears in his eyes.

"I remember that." He shares quietly.

Two-Bit opens his mouth, starting into another story. Everyone listens, occasionally nodding, and while I have no idea what he's talking about, I enjoy hearing about the past.

Soda starts to actually smile. "Hey, Steve," he starts, turning his attention towards his best friend. "Remember when we was ridin' bikes down the street, and you thought it would be fun to race that kid from down the street?" Steve nods his head, playing with his cake. "Then, you ended up fallin' off you bike and breakin' your arm. Mom was awful upset, but once she realized Dad thought it was funny, she eased up." Soda sighs, taking a bite of cake. "I miss them so much."

Each boy nods in agreement, and for the rest of the night, we remain seated at the table, listening to the different stories being told about Mr and Mrs Curtis.

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><p><strong>Well, there's chapter 14. If you enjoyed it, please tell me. Please, if you have anything to say, let me know. Unless you're wanting to flame, then don't even waste your time replying.<strong>

**I know that I'm opening another door without officially closing the first door ((the drama between Eileen and James & the Curtis parents)), but don't worry. It'll all be sorted out, and trust me. There's some more drama to come. Don't worry though. It's going to be spaced out, so there won't be new drama in each chapter.**

**So, please review? Please? For Johnny? :)**


	15. Take Me Home Tonight

**OMGGGG. THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH. I LOVE YOU ALL. REALLY. THANK YOU GUYS FOR REVIEWING. I NEVER EXPECTED TO GET AS MANY REVIEWS AS I DID, BUT I'M SO HAPPY THAT YOU GUYS LEFT ME FEEDBACK. SERIOUSLY. THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH. I REALLY APPRECIATE IT. :D Can we do it again for this chapter? :)**

**Thank you to the guest reviewers too! I wish I could have sent you guys a PM too like I did with the others.**

**I had a bit of trouble getting into this chapter, so I erased everything and started over. Now, we have this! I'm not too sure if funerals were conducted any differently back in the 60s compared to how they're conducted nowadays, and although I did a bit of research before writing this, I mainly based it off of what happened at my grandfather's. If there's any inaccurate information, I'm really sorry!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _The Outsiders_**

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><p>I'm not quite sure what time Mom drops me off at the funeral home, but I'm well aware that several people are already here. If I didn't know any better, I would say that I'm extremely late, and if that's the case, I'm going to end up feeling really bad.<p>

Mom heads back to the house, leaving me alone, once I let her know that I'll probably hit Steve up for a ride after the visitation is over. I smooth my skirt down nervously, looking up at the big, brick building in front of me. A few people stand on the front porch, chatting away, and it eases my anxious stomach a bit when I realize they don't even notice me.

Inside the funeral home, several middle aged couples are loitering around, talking freely amongst themselves, and it makes me feel extremely out of place. As far as I can see, I'm the only teen, and the fact that I don't spot my boyfriend or any of his friends is enough to give me thoughts of running home.

But I can't do that to Steve.

He needs me, and it'd be pretty low of me to leave him alone during a time like this. If roles were reversed, I know he'd be by my side the whole time if I asked.

I take a deep breath, swallowing hard and struggling to remain calm. I've never done well with a large crowd of strangers; nerves always become too overbearing for me, and if I don't calm myself down soon, I'm probably going to have a panic attack.

Mr and Mrs Curtis' guest book is full of signatures, and although I never had a chance to get to know them, I write my name anyway. I've heard my parents talk about how you're suppose to, and it'll give me a few extra moments – moments to hope that one of the boys find me before I have to go on a hunt for them.

My plans ends up failing, and like before, I'm still very well on my own.

I venture out into the main room of the home, searching high and low for at least one person I recognize. There's a fairly large crowd of people gathered around, so it makes the room appear so much larger than it actually is. Due to this, I find myself slipping and squeezing through different adults, and when I reach the perimeter, I find Johnny and Ponyboy sitting on one of the couches, talking quietly and keeping to themselves.

I can't help but smile, and without hesitating, I start walking towards the red velvet couch. Ponyboy's eyes find me before Johnny's, and he looks genuinely surprised to see me here at his parents' visitation. "Hey, Guys!" I greet. Despite the sad setting, I can't help but feel happy – happy that I'm not longer alone. "I don't know anyone else here. Do you two mind if I hang out with you for now?" Pony shakes his head.

"No, knock yourself out," he says. I plop beside Johnny, letting my eyes venture out to the crowd. "How come you ain't with Steve?" Ponyboy inquires curiously, leaning forward. He looks at me, and all I can do in response is shrug. "I think he was lookin' for you earlier."

"Well, Ponyboy, I cannot find him, so if he really wants me, he'll continue looking," I answer, looking back at him. Pony starts to grin and even Johnny chuckles a bit. "How are you and your brothers doing? I'm really sorry for you loss, Pony. From the way Steve talked and from what I saw, your parents were really loving and caring."

"Yeah, they were," Pony tells me sadly. "We're doin' better, I guess. It's still real hard, and everyone really misses them." He wipes at his eyes, sighing quietly. "I really miss them. I wish I would have given 'em a hug or somethin' before they left that night." Johnny stares sadly at the ground, and when Ponyboy whimpers a bit, he wraps his arm around him.

In a matter of seconds, I feel incredibly bad for even bringing them up.

"We all miss them, Pony." Johnny shares, pulling his friend into his side. Ponyboy cries silently, and Johnny continues to comfort him. I feel guilty and out of place. I didn't intentionally mean to make him cry; it was an accident.

"I have to go the bathroom," I mutter, rising up. "I'll see you guys later." Neither one of them say a thing to me, so I set off – set off into an unfamiliar place with a bunch of unnamed strangers, and when I'm in the center of it all, I realize I made a big mistake.

People fail to move out of my way when I say excuse me, so I resort to squeezing past them. Even though I tried to be polite about it and failed, some of the adults shoot me nasty glares, but most of them merely apologize before jumping back into their stories about Mr and Mrs Curtis or the latest going on in their lives.

Outside the main room, there's a smaller, connecting room. A couple couches are pushed off to the side, and a few people are loitering around. There's a hallway off this room, leading to what looks like a coat room, and on the other side, there's a door and a bathroom.

I start for the bathroom, figuring it'll give me a couple minutes to stall, but before I can reach the room, the door open, Sodapop comes through – laughing and having a grand time.

It surprises me to say the least.

"Well, hello, Miss Eileen," Soda greets. "Steve was wonderin' if you were ever gonna get here." Two-Bit squeezes past his friend, desperately trying to see who Soda is talking to. When he sees me, he starts grinning.

"It's 'bout time you got here, Eileen. Your boy was freakin' out, and he was on the verge of a meltdown." Two-Bit shares. In the back, I can hear Steve grumbling something, and overall, it doesn't sound like he's too pleased with his friend's antics.

"Let her through," Steve tells them. Two-Bit steps out of the way, and with a sweeping gesture, he ushers me through. On the other side, Steve is waiting for me, with a box of cigarettes and his lighter in hand. "I'm goin' out for a smoke. Wanna come?" I hate the smell of smoke, but I agree to go with him anyway.

"Why are you wearing jeans?" I ask curiously, following him out the funeral home's back door. "You didn't have any nicer looking pants?" He takes a seat on the steps, lighting up and ignoring my questions.

"Chill out," he finally says, sticking the cigarette between his lips. "I only got one pair of dress pants, and I was savin' them for tomorrow. 'Sides, Darry said it'd be okay to wear jeans."

"Okay, but did you have to wear the rattiest pair you have, Steve? You can't tell me you don't have any that aren't covered in holes and grease." I look up at him, waiting to see if he realizes I'm giving him a hard time or not. He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, exhaling smoke.

"Nope, I don't. They're all dirty."

"Then do your laundry."

"I don't know how."

"Then how does your laundry get done?" I ask, looking up at him. "Because your dad doesn't strike me as the type to do it." Steve shrugs his shoulders, putting the smoke back in his mouth.

"Dunno, but it gets done. Guess he's been slackin' lately cause it ain't been done in forever." My face scrunches up in disgust.

"Steve, I'm coming over this weekend, and I'm going to teach you how to the laundry, okay?" He shrugs his shoulders. "Can you pick me up though?" Steve rolls his eyes.

"I guess since you seem so damn sure that I need to be taught."

XxXxXxX

Steve starts to tell the guys goodbye once everyone at the funeral home is gone. He starts to grin while throwing his arm around my shoulders, and as casually as he can, he says, "I'll catch ya guys later. I have to take this hooligan home, and I don't need to be late to give her dad more of a reason to hate me."

"Her dad hates ya?" Two-Bit asks. I frown, nodding my head slowly. Two-Bit starts to laugh – much to Steve's dismay. "It's a shame you weren't able to woo her daddy too, eh, Steve?" He teases.

"Shut the hell up, Two-Bit." He turns towards Soda, and lets him know he'll be at the house around 9:00 tomorrow morning. Sodapop nods, and with a final good-bye, the two of us leave.

"What time does the funeral start tomorrow?" I ask.

"I think it's starts at 10:00," Steve replies, holding the door open. "You comin' over with me? Soda said that Sandy and Kathy are comin' over, and we're all gonna ride to the funeral home together."

"If you don't mind coming out of your way to pick me up." Steve rolls his eyes, wrapping his arm around my waist. He pulls me to a stop and plants his lips on top of mine.

"I've told you before that I don't mind." He says, pulling away seconds later. I start to smile as Steve starts walking towards his truck with me right by his side.

XxXxXxX

When I open my front door the next morning, Steve is standing on our front steps, and I'm rather amazed at how well he cleans up. He notices my shock and starts to smirk. "I clean up nicely, don't I, Doll Face?"

He's clad in a long sleeve, black button up shirt along with gray dress pants. His hair is still greased back, but his face and hands look cleaner than ever. Even the collar on his shirt is sitting down, and all in all, Steve Randle looks very nice.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't surprise," I smile. "But Steve, you look really nice. I never thought a greaser like yourself could get so cleaned up." He shakes his head, reaching for my hand.

"Come on or we're gonna be late."

I take a seat on the couch, in between Sandy and Kathy, and we talk amongst ourselves, waiting for the guys to get finished. "Wow, they take longer than girls to get ready." Kathy whispers. Sandy and I laugh, and Sandy nods her head in agreement.

"I picked out my outfit last night, so it only took me half an hour," she shares. "It's been takin' Soda at least 45 minutes. I had to help him choose what to wear, and even after we picked an outfit, he had to ask for Darry's approval."

"Two-Bit's mother had to choose his outfit. He kept trying to wear a Mickey Mouse shirt underneath a black dress coat. I've never seen his mom come so close to knocking him upside the head."

Steve moseys into the front room, and my face falls upon seeing him. Beside me, Sandy and Kathy are laughing, and it takes me everything I have to not hit him. His shirt is halfway untucked, and his collar is standing up. "What in the world did you do to yourself?" I ask incredulously.

"I was screwin' 'round with Soda in the kitchen." He answers casually, taking a seat.

"You better fix yourself, Steve. We have to leave soon," Steve rolls his eyes while the two girls start giggling and making comments about how I sound like his mom. "Come here." I stand up from my seat, and reluctantly, Steve climbs to his feet.

I start to fix his shirt and collar, and in the midst of it, Steve decides to kiss me. I'm a little embarrassed that he felt the need to do it in front of everyone, but either way, I kiss him back – rougher than intended. Steve starts to smirk, and when he pulls away, I'm fully aware that he wants to make a comment.

I ignore his reaction and fix his collar, and once I'm done, it's time to head to the funeral home.

XxXxXxX

We arrive at the funeral home before everyone else. Steve helps me out of his truck, and with my hand in his, we follow the other boys – and girls – into the building. "Are you going to be okay, Steve?" I ask quietly. He squeezes my hand, nodding his head slowly.

"I'm fine." He replies. Like yesterday, the caskets are still open and untouched. Soda and Pony hold each other, crying silently as they stare down at their parents. Darry stands behind them, stone faced and not displaying any emotion.

Each of the boys mirror Darry's face, and personally, I wish they would stop trying to act tough. Personally, I wish they realized, in situations like this, it's okay to cry – greaser or not.

Once the boys have their moment of silence, they claim their seats while Darry goes to greet the guest. Soda continues to comfort his younger brother, and I wish someone would say a word.

I understand that funerals are sad, but the silence is killing me.

Sandy takes her seat behind Soda, and I can see the look in her eyes. She craves to reach out for her boyfriend; she craves to hold him and to make him feel better. Instead, she leaves him to his brother.

Kathy sits behind Two-Bit, and she stares at the floor like it's the best thing in the world. It doesn't look like she's as anxious to comfort Two-Bit, and it definitely seems to me that she's better off in her own world in this situation.

Steve watches me, making certain that I sit right behind him. When I do, he turns back around, and like Kathy, I don't feel the need to console Steve. It appears that he's better alone, and if he wants any consoling, he'll come to me.

I hope.

By the end of the service, I'm in tears. It was done beautifully, and the pastor was phenomenal. From what I know, it sounds like he summed the two up perfectly. He announces that the funeral will now move to the cemetery, and once he's finished speaking, people start to stand up.

All of the boys hesitate; none of them move, and the sight shatters my heart. I set my hands on Steve's shoulder, squeezing gently. Kathy reaches for Two-Bit's hand while Sandy wraps her arms around Soda's neck.

One by one, the boys all begin to rise. They head towards the caskets, looking at the loved parents one more time. Aside from Ponyboy and Soda, Johnny cracks. Tears start streaming down his cheeks, and he whimpers quietly. From the other side of their gang, Dallas watches him, but he doesn't move towards him. Instead, Steve slings an arm around him, whispering something along the line of, "It'll be all right, Johnnycakes."

A couple tears dance down Two-Bit's cheeks, but other than that, nothing more happens.

Considering there's two caskets, Darry decides they'll need eight pallbearers – four for each parent. Sandy offers to be the remaining pallbearer, leaving Kathy and me alone. Steve looks incredibly nervous leaving his precious truck with the two of us, and he's reluctant to hand the keys over to Kathy.

She merely rolls her eyes, telling him that he's worrying for nothing.

We head out the backdoor and to his truck. Kathy looks at me with wide eyes, and something tells me this isn't going to be good. "Do you know how to drive?" She inquires. I shake my head, biting my left cheek. Kathy sighs. "Neither do I. I've never touched the driver's side of a vehicle ever. Do you have any experience with driving?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I've driven my sister's car for a little before, but I've never dealt with a truck, and Steve will kill me if I mess up his truck at all." Kathy starts to grin.

"I think you're better fit for this job," she explains. "You've at least had a bit of experience, and if you end up messing up anything, he won't be nearly as mad at you since you're girl." Kathy tosses the keys, and wordlessly, we climb into the cab.

Once they're finished, they all climb into the family car offered by the funeral home. Nervously, I start up the truck, and I'm thankful we won't be going fast. "If you don't relax, you're going to manage to kill us both." I ignore her comment, and putting the truck in drive, I follow behind car, and I can't believe it.

I'm actually driving a vehicle.

At the cemetery, the boys, and Sandy, bring the casket into a small shelter. Mr and Mrs Curtis are placed on top of a table, and this time, the funeral guests gather around them. Kathy walks off to find Two-Bit, and with the keys in my hand, I go to find Steve. He looks at me sternly, silently demanding a report of his truck. I roll my eyes handing him the keys. "Calm down, Steve, I didn't cause any damage to your truck. It's like it was before."

"It better be." He replies, but he appears to relax, and as the second part of the funeral starts, he throws his arm around my shoulders – holding me close to him.

The pastor starts to give another speech, but to be honest, I'm not too sure what he's saying. As hard as I try, I can't pay attention, but when Steve lays his head on top of mine, it brings me back to my surroundings.

I look around the building, and it looks like it's hit everyone. Two-Bit is crying harder than he was at the funeral home; Soda's face is buried in Sandy's shoulder; Johnny and Ponyboy are sitting on the bench, holding each other tightly, and even the almighty Dallas Winston has a couple silent tears dancing down his cheeks.

Still, Darry looks as though he's trying to remain strong for his brothers – and even the gang – and he refuses to let any tears fall. But I can see it. I can see the tears coating his eyes, but nothing more happens.

I pull out from underneath Steve to see what's going on with him, and like everyone else, he's crying. He looks broken, so I hug him tighter. "It's finally hit that they're actually gone," he whispers, laying his head back on top of mine. Steve holds me close. "I can't believe it."

Outside the building, dark clouds start to roll in, and off in the distance, a rumble of thunder emerges.

But as cliché as it is, the weather is perfect, and it doesn't feel like the sun is mocking us with its happiness.

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><p><strong>WARNING: Now that the Curtis parents have been laid to rest, things are going to start calming down, and I'm going to make it my goal to include more romantic moments between Eileen and Steve, but I feel I should warn you... This isn't the end of the drama. I have more ideas planned, but I'm not going to throw new pieces of drama in each chapter (I think I already said this last chapter?); I don't want to overwhelm you guys! Just know, that more drama is to come. If that wasn't true, drama wouldn't be one of the genres for this fanfic. :)<strong>

**Yes, this includes more elaboration on the whole situation between Eileen and James. :) & wait until Steve finds out. ;)**

**Please review! I will really appreciate any feedback given!**

**PS - If anyone wants a story about Sandy and Soda that's not like the rest, you should check out my one shot, Stick Around. I'm pretty proud of it, and I would if you guys checked it out. :)**


	16. Don't Do Me Like That

**I'm intrigued to see what you guys will think of this chapter. For the most part, it's a filler chapter, and it mentions the events of the previous chapter once, and then that's it. I wanted this chapter to be one where she like distracts him from his troubles, and for the most part, I think just that happens, but I promise that since the funerals are done, I'm not going to completely forget about the parents. There's another mention of them in the next chapter. :) Aside from a filler chapter, I feel like a couple major things happen towards the end, but I hope you guys like it!**

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><p>Dad, Douglas and Mom are gone bright and early Saturday morning, and when I mention going to Steve's house, Imogene seems a little more than excited. "Imogene, are you doing something Mom wouldn't approve of?" She shakes her head quickly and bites her bottom lip hard.<p>

"No, but if you're going to Steve's, this will give me a chance to hang out with this boy I've been talking to. He asked if I wanted to go to the movies with him, and I want to call him and ask him if he still wants to go." She explains.

"Ooh, Imogene," I tease. "Is he cute? What's his name? Do I know him?"

"I don't know if you'll know him. His name is Paul. He moved here recently from Michigan. Eileen, you would freak. He's seriously so cute, and I can't even believe that he took an interest in me." I take a seat on the opposite end of the couch, eager to hear more about this boy that pursuing my sister.

"What does he look like?"

"I don't think your boyfriend would be too happy to hear you getting this excited over another guy," Imogene warns seriously. I roll my eyes, showing that I don't mean any harm, and cutting the act instantly, my older sister starts to laugh. "I think he's really cute. He has sandy brown hair, and oh, Eileen, he has the prettiest blue eyes. Carolyn described them as the color of the sky. He has these really kissable lips, and I can assure you that he works out. He's muscular, and I would love to feel his arms around me."

I start to laugh at how infatuated Imogene sounds with this guy, and before she can continue, Steve arrives, and I have to cut her off. "I'll see you later, but have fun with your man while I'm gone!" I wink while walking through the door.

"I would've been here earlier, but my old man was takin' forever to leave." Steve grumbles, watching me climb into his truck. I shut the door behind me, and he begins to pull out of our driveway.

"It's fine," I answer, reaching for the seatbelt. "Imogene was telling me about this boy that's trying to date her." He pulls onto the road, and seconds later, we're heading back to his house. It's going to be my first time here, and to say I'm nervous would be an understatement.

XxXxXxX

Steve is silent for the whole ride, and it makes me slightly uncomfortable. I don't expect him to be over their deaths, but him not talking to me is so unusual – so rare – that I really don't like it, and I wish everything was back to normal.

And after thinking over how selfish that sounds, I feel bad.

"How're you feeling, Steve?" I ask quietly, and in response, he sighs. I'm pretty positive he doesn't want to talk, but I can't stand to see him upset, and I feel like I should try to take his mind off things.

"I dunno," Steve answers truthfully. "I still can't believe this whole week has actually happened. I can't believe they're actually gone." His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and within seconds, his knuckles begin to turn white. "I just wish this wasn't consuming my every thought." He mutters under his breath, and I'm not too sure if he wanted me to hear or not, but either way, it brings a small smile to my face.

There's the Steve I know. The Steve that isn't too keen on displaying emotion.

"Well then, Mr Randle," I smile. "My goal is to make you forget for a little bit. You'll be happier than ever, and no sad thoughts will cross your mind ever." He snorts, rolling his eyes.

"How you plannin' on doin' that?"

"If I were you, Steven, I wouldn't doubt me. You should know by now that I'm a fun person to be around. I don't fear anything, and I'm a big risk taker. I'm also the funnest person you can ever hang out with." Steve shakes his head.

"You know English ain't my strong spot, but even I know that 'funnest' ain't a word," he shares. "'Sides, I always have to talk you into doin' bad things. You ain't never excited to join me." We slip through the remainder of the middle class area, and within seconds, the scenario has changed.

The houses are more run down, and the yards aren't nearly as clean and trimmed. It stills makes my heart ache.

"But when I do, I'm a lot of fun, right, Steve?" I look over at him, tearing my attention away from the surroundings; he looks deep in thought – almost like he's trying to think of how to answer.

"Yeah, sure." He finally answers, and even though he's not paying attention, I throw him as nasty of a glare that I can muster up. For the remainder of the car ride, I pretend to be upset with him.

But really, I'm just happy that I appear to be succeeding at my plan of making him forget for a little bit.

XxXxXxX

Steve leads me down a hallway, and for the most part, all of the doors are closed except one. "My rooms a mess," Steve explains. "I was gonna clean it up, but then I realized it was only you, so I left it." I give him another look, letting him know his decision doesn't amuse me in the least.

"Thanks, Steve, you're the best." I answer sarcastically. He shoots me a smirk, and at the end of the hall, we reach his bedroom. He turns the knob and pushes his door open, and like Steve had warned, his room is an absolute mess.

Clothes are thrown everywhere; his bed isn't made, and needless to say, if my mother was here, she would be throwing a tantrum.

"Goodness, Steve. It looks like this place hasn't been cleaned in months!" He merely shrugs his shoulders and falls onto his bed. "You do realize that I'm going to teach you how to do your own laundry, and then after that, I'm going to make you help me clean up your room, right?" He shakes his head.

"You ain't cleanin' my room."

"If I don't do it, then no one will. If you help me, Steve, it won't count as me cleaning your room. Let's get started. Do you have a clothes basket anywhere?" Steve gets off his bed and looks around his room. He moves towards the foot of his bed, digs around a bit and before long, he pulls a blue basket out from underneath the mess.

"Here." He tosses it my way, watching me and waiting for my next action. I bite my lips hard, looking around his room, wondering where to begin.

"Help me gather up some clothes. If the clothes are white, throw them back on the ground. We're going to start with colors," Steve does as I say, and in no time at all, the basket is full. "Lead me to your washer, Steven." He rolls his eyes at my use of his actual name but slips past me. He leads me down the hall, and at the end, there's a little room with a single window, an overhead cabinet and a washer and dryer.

"It's right in here, Doll Face," He leads the way into the room, and after setting the basket on the dryer, I look around for the needed supplies. Steve seems to read my mind because he opens the cabinet above the washer and pulls out detergent. "You lookin' for this stuff, Eileen?" I nod my head, thanking him silently with a smile.

I teach him the same exact way that Mother taught me. Steve grasps the basics easily, but when I start feeding him more detailed information, I can see the color drain from his face, and I'm afraid that he'll start trying to talk his way out of learning.

Thankfully he doesn't, and after I repeat it a handful of times, he claims he understands what to do. Then, after a couple loads, I let him put his newly acquired knowledge to the test. Occasionally, he looks my way, silently asking me if he's doing everything right, and in response, I nod.

Once he shuts the lid for the third load, I start to smile. "I can't believe how well you're doing with this, Steve. I didn't think you'd understand how to do it so easily." He merely shrugs his shoulders and I wait for a cocky comment, but once again, the expected action doesn't come.

"It ain't as hard as I thought it was gonna be," he admits. "Sure, all that detail shit is a little confusin', but once you repeat it a few times, it ain't bad." Steve leans against the washer and turns towards me. I mess with the dial on the dryer, and after I set it to the desired setting, I turn it on.

"Well, Mr Randle," I begin, turning towards him. Steve stares at me, waiting to hear what we're going to do next. "It's time to begin cleaning up that pig sty you consider a room." He rolls his eyes and groans in disgust. "Do you have a duster and a vacuum cleaner?" Steve nods his head reluctantly and leads me to the necessities.

Back in his room, I give Steve instructions on how we're going to clean the place up, and through it all, he still doesn't look thrilled. "I want you to start cleaning up these books, magazines, your school supplies and whatever else is on the floor," he opens his mouth to protest, but before Steve can say a single word, I shake my head slowly. "While you're doing that, I'm going to make your bed, and then I'll help you clean up the floor. Once we're finished tidying up, you're going to vacuum, and I'll dust. And once all of that is done, the remaining laundry should be done, and then we'll put that away."

"Babe, that's a lot of work," Steve groans. "I'm really not in the mood to clean."

"With two people, it won't take that long." I bite my tongue, hoping I'm right. His room is awfully messy, and depending on if we end up getting sidetracked or not, I can't exactly say how long it'll take.

I turn and head for his bed, and mumbling how much he hates cleaning, Steve begins his activities. He takes a seat on his floor and stares at the mess before directing his attention towards me. "Where exactly am I 'ppose to put this stuff?" He inquires. I look around his room; when I notice there's really no where to set it, I start to frown.

"For now, set it on the bed, and we'll worry about it later."

XxXxXxX

"Why are you staring at me, Steve?" I ask, setting his school books in a pile. Both of us are sitting against his bed, going through a pile of books he has. Then, he had randomly stopped and looked over at me, and he hasn't turned away since.

"I love you, Eileen."

My heart falls into my stomach; around me, the world stops, and I can't believe what I had just heard. His words had come out quietly, and the more I think about it, the more I'm sure I didn't hear him right. But then again, what else could he have said? Surely, I had to have heard him right.

I turn towards him, and there's a small smile on his face, signaling one thing: I, did in fact, hear him right. My heart starts to increase in speed, and I can't believe it. Soda and Sandy might have said that he really liked me, but there's no way I could have imagined that there would come a day where Steve Randle actually loves me.

"I love you too, Steve Randle." His smile grows wider. My heart melts, and I still can't believe it.

Steve turns a bit, and after I follow his action, he starts to lean towards me. I slip my arms underneath his armpits, setting my hands on his shoulder blades, meeting him halfway. Our lips connect, and for some reason, this kiss feels different than any other ones we've shared.

I can't place my finger on what feels different, but for the most part, I think I really like it.

He pulls me closer, and before too long, he collects me in his arms and pulls me onto his lap. I pull my arms away from him before wrapping them around his neck. My hands find their way to Steve's greased hair while Steve's rest calmly on my hips.

Steve starts to pick up the pace, and before I know it, his tongue is in my mouth, and I like it. I like the feeling of something new in my mouth, and I like how skilled his tongue appears to be.

I start to grind my hips against his, and the positive response I get from him send chills down my spine. Steve pulls his tongue from my mouth and moans loudly against my lips. It brings a grin to my lips, and once he's done, he breaks away.

He repositions us so that I'm lying on my back and Steve is hovering over me. He leans down to steal another kiss from me while grabbing onto my right wrist. I'm not sure what he's planning to do, but either way, I go along with it. Steve pulls my hand down to his groin and starts to kiss my neck, but before I can protest, he coaxes me to touch him through his jeans. Through the material, I can feel how hard he's getting.

And it causes a bunch of warning flags to go up.

We haven't been dating that long, and at this moment, I'm not ready to go all the way. Someday Steve can have my virginity, but today is not that day.

I pull my hand away from his groin, and I push hard enough against his chest to get him to stop. He looks at me in confusion. "What's wrong, Doll Face?" Steve asks; his voice gruff. I utter a small sigh, breaking eye contact to ease the growing guilt I'm feeling for stopping him.

"Steve, I'm not ready to go this far," I whisper. I look back at him, and although his jaw clenches a bit, he gets off of me. "Steve, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let it get that far. Don't be mad at me please." He shakes his head.

"I'm not mad." He assures, but I don't believe him. I can see right through the mask he's using; it, no doubt, makes me feel worse.

"Can you take me home?" My voice is reticent, but Steve nods his head. We both climb to our feet, and after I wash my hands off, we head for his truck. Based on how silent the walk is, I fear that the car ride will be the same way.

Boy, was I right. Our car ride was possibly ten times worse than the walk to his truck.

I walk up to my house silently. Neither of us said good-bye – heck, we didn't even finish cleaning his room – and the guilt is telling me I should've just shut up, and let him have his way. I can't stand having him mad at me, and once the thought of this event ruining our relationship presents itself in my mind, it breaks my heart.

All I want to do is eat ice cream and bawl.

* * *

><p><strong>How was it? For the most part, I like it, and I hope you do too. From now on, new chapters are going to be spaced out farther. I've decided to try something different with my writing process, and at the moment, it's working out well.<strong>

**Either way, please review! I would LOVE to hear what you guys think of this chapter, and for the reviewer that wants to see hot, romantic moments between Eileen and Steve, was that enough for now? I don't want to move them too fast, but I promise something big will happen soon. :) Anyway, please review. I will really appreciate it!**

**PS - With my new process of writing, I'm hoping (and thinking) that chapters are going to get longer. :)**


	17. CH 17

**Hi, Guys! I hope you're ready for another chapter, and to those of you that reviewed the last chapter, I really appreciate it, and I'm sorry I haven't told you so personally. I've been really busy lately, but I promise it'll be the next thing I do!**

**I think this chapter has been proof read, but I honestly can't remember, so if there's any mistakes, I'm really sorry! I'll fix it later. :)**

**I have to go to work soon, but I decided I should update before I leave, so here's the newest installment. You'll get to find out what happens to Eileen following the guilt she was feeling towards the end of the previous chapter. I hope you guys like it!**

**& Yes, I did change the summary for this story. :)**

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><p>Mom's shrill voice pulls me from the safety of my bedroom, and I resist any urge to roll my eyes. In my own opinion, I thought I made it pretty obvious to my whole family that I want to be alone, and they're preventing me from worrying myself sick with these worst case scenarios that I've recently excelled at creating.<p>

I'm not an expert with dating, but I don't think having a boyfriend should be this stressful.

My steps are lengthy, and it probably takes me a minute or so to reach my door. All I know is that when Mom calls me again, she doesn't sound too happy, and it appears she's growing a bit impatient with my antics.

I pick up the pace, and when I reach the kitchen, Mom doesn't look happy like I had predicted. "There's someone that wants to talk to you." She announces plainly. My eyes widen, and my heart begins to race.

Can it actually be Steve?

I grab the phone from her hands, forcing it to my ear at a rapid pace. "Hello, this is Eileen." I answer, waiting to see if my assumption is correct, but when the person starts talking, my face and mood fall.

It's only Evie.

"Hey, Eileen," she chirps. "Are ya doin' anythin' today?" I don't answer her immediately, but with the phone still pressed to my ear, I spin around, walking around the kitchen and searching for my mom as far as the telephone chord will allow.

"I'm not too sure. If I could find my mom, I would ask her," I mutter. I peel the phone off my ear; with my left hand, I cover the mouth piece so Evie can't hear me. "Mom, where did you go?" I yell, staring at the entryway from the front room.

"What do you want, Eileen?" She grumbles, stalking back into the kitchen. "Sweetie, you don't have to scream. I'm right here. I was right inside the front room." Mom stares at me expectantly, and before putting forward my inquiry, I pose an innocent smile.

She groans immediately, and half of me wonders if the neighbors heard her – she was _that_ loud.

"Mommy, can I spend the night with Evie?" From the nasty look she's throwing me, I bet she wants to smack me. Her eyes are blazing with dissatisfaction, and she's giving me the impression that this is the last thing she wants to death with on a day like today.

Once she relaxes, Mom opens her mouth to speak, but it closes seconds later, and it's a sure sign that what she's about to say won't be good. When this occurs, it usually means: "I was going to tell you yes to whatever you asked, but then an outside factor is making me reconsider my answer."

And as I suspected, my accusation is correct.

"I'm not too sure, Eileen," Mom remarks. "Honey, you just got back from Steve's house not too long ago, and I think your dad wants to go out tonight." My minds races, thinking of different ways I can get her to change her mind, and within moments, the most childish idea ever pops into my head. I muster up the best puppy dog impression that I can, and as seconds pass, Mom appears more and more ready to cave.

Then, it happens.

I throw my act to the side once I get permission. Then, I tell her that I love her, and I proceed with a little cheer before getting back to Evie. When I'm done telling her the final verdict, I hang up and hurry off to pack; Mom watches me the whole time, and it looks as if she regrets letting me win.

XxXxXxX

Mom insists on driving me to Evie's place, but the whole idea of being alone excites me, and I foolishly decline. She doesn't look too sure of my decision, and I wait for her protests or complaints or something, but it never happens, and without a word, she lets me continue on my way.

Evie's place, here I come.

I cut through town for the idea of possibly running into a few dangerous hoods doesn't exactly appeal to me, but as I round the corner of an old clothing store, I find that, despite my best efforts, my plan of staying in the safe zone fail. A couple tough looking greasers are leaning against the side wall of the clothing store, smoking and not much else. My heart begins to thump, and I'm starting to believe that taking the back roads would've been safer; better yet, I should've gotten over myself and allowed Mom to drive me.

Either way, I'll remember to use my head next time.

Both of them eye me, and their wandering gaze is a good reason my effort to remain cool is dwindling to nothing. As much as I hate to admit it, it's dropping at an alarming rate, and I'm afraid to find out what will happen when I actually pass them.

One of the goons, one with greased back red-hair, opens his mouth. "Ain't that Randle's girl?" He asks his friend quietly, sucking on his cigarette, and I feel like I wasn't suppose to hear him, but I did. From the corner of my eye, I can see his friend nod his head, and the fact that these two boys know me – granted, they don't know my name – makes me really uncomfortable.

Without even realizing it, my pace picks up speed, and I can't get to Evie's fast enough.

XxXxXxX

Right as I arrive, the front door swings open, and Evie comes running out of her house. "I'm so glad you're finally here!" She squeals, wrapping me up in a fast hug. "No one is home, and I was starting to get lonely." I can't help myself as I start to smile. I really want to get another girl's thoughts on what happened between Steve and me; plus, Evie once dated him, so I can trust whatever she has to say about him.

Evie invites me into her house; it's exactly how I remember it except Sandy isn't here, but honestly, I'm glad we're alone. I don't think Sandy would know what to tell me – considering this has to deal with Steve – and if I'm being honest with myself, I don't really think I want her to know.

She guides me into her bedroom, and instantly, Evie notices that my mind is somewhere else. Albeit no one is home, she closes the door behind us. "You okay, Eileen?" I bite my lips in answer to her question. "Wanna take a seat and tell me what's on your mind?" Evie sinks to the floor slowly, coaxing me to follow her.

"I need your advice on something," I admit, sitting on my feet. I intertwine my fingers together and place them on top of my thighs. "It's about Steve, and it's been bothering me all day."

"I'm listenin'."

"Well, I went to his house earlier, and he tried to get in my pants," my face grows hot at the thought, and I can't believe I'm telling her about something personal – _really_ personal. I sigh quietly before proceeding. "I stopped him from going any farther, and he got mad. He didn't say a word to me on the way back to my place. I'm freaking out, Evie."

Her eyes stare into mine blankly, and her lack of answer is fueling my nerves.

Then, of all things possible, she grins.

"Sweetie, you ain't never had a boyfriend before, have you?" I shake my head slowly, refusing to make eye contact with her. My cheeks are incredibly red with embarrassment; it makes me want to die because of how obvious it, apparently, is that I've never had a boyfriend before.

I feel stupid because of my actions.

"Honey, I won't lie to you," Evie commences. "You stopped a horny bull in his tracks. I'm sure he was fuckin' pissed. It'd be unlike him not to be. I mean, we are talkin' 'bout Steve after all. Anyway, you killed the mood, and that's a 'nuff to make any teenage boy pissed, but Eileen, I think you're overreactin'. I'll bet anything that he's over it now, and it's most likely long forgotten by now. So you can calm down and stop worryin' yourself gray." It sinks in that she's probably right, and as I start to calm down, a slight smile graces my face.

"Thanks, Evie." She smiles but waves it off.

"It was nothin'," she assures. Evie sets her right hand on top of her left, setting them on her stomach. "But let's go to The Dingo. I don't know 'bout you, but I'm starvin'." Thinking about it, I can definitely go for food right now. I spent all day worrying for no reason that food and eating were the last things on my mind.

I climb to my feet behind Evie, and after grabbing money, we set off for The Dingo.

XxXxXxX

We skim over the menus given to us, occasionally voicing out thoughts on what sounds good and what sounds absolutely awful.

In the end, Evie settles on a strawberry shake, I get a chocolate malt and we split a large basket of fries.

A waitress runs off with our order after tucking a pen behind her ear and announcing that our food will be done shortly, and after she's gone, I turn towards Evie. "What?" She questions, flipping her menu over.

I start to smirk while wiggling my eyebrows and the simple action successfully ignites more confusion within Evie. I laugh in response. "Now that you know how Steve and I are doing, it's my turn to ask you. How are you and Brian doing?" I poke my tongue into my left cheek, waiting patiently for her response. Evie rolls her eyes and sets her menu down on the table.

"Brian's bein' a real pain in the ass," she answers. I open my mouth to prod, but she continues before I can say a word. "He thinks he can tell me who I can and can't hang out with." She groans, rolling her eyes again. "Somehow he found out that Steve and I sit at the same lunch table, and he told me he don't like that. He told me that he wants me to go sit at 'nother table. I told him Steve is seein' you, but Brian wasn't listenin'. He's getting' to be too damn controllin'." Evie stops a second to catch her breath; once she's done, she continues with her rant. "He wants me to tell him where I'm goin'. He acts like my fuckin' babysitter, and I'm gettin' real tired of it. I'm 16 for Christ's sake. I don't need no one down my throat every minute of every damn day." Evie's eyes meet mine, and in a second, she turns bright red. "I'm real sorry 'bout that." She mutters shyly.

A waitress delivers our orders, saving Evie from embarrassing herself anymore than she already has. I thank her quietly while my friend digs right in.

I take a fry gingerly, and as a way to cool it down, I dip it in my malt. Neither of us say a word nor do we want to. I think she's still recovering from her rant, and I think she's thinking over her situation, but I don't care. I'm more than happy to not be talking.

It's what shy people are born with – content with silence.

"Hello, Ladies," an all too familiar voice shatters the silence, and I swear, for a second or two, my heart stops.

Evie jumps a little and looks up at the mystery male, but I don't. I can't even believe this is happening outside of school – outside of Spanish.

I finally find the strength to actually glance up at him, and like I assumed, James, and one of his friends, is standing in front of our table. His eyes meet mine when I look up, and my cheeks burn when it sinks in that he was already staring at me. Quickly, I regain myself, and my mood shifts. I'm irate – irate that he won't leave me alone. "What the hell are you doing here?" I demand. Evie looks at me, ready to ask who these boys are.

James merely smirks, forcing his way into my seat; his friend claims the spot beside Evie. "Ooh, sounds like you have a mouth. I bet you sound real hot in bed." He throws his arm around me. I throw him a nasty glare, but he ignores it. "Say, Eileen, I got a cool new car the other day. It's right out front, want to come see the backseat with me?" His friend starts to laugh while James sits there with a self-satisfied smirk still on his face.

Evie's eyes widen as though she can't be too sure if she heard him correctly. As for me, I feel ashamed – ashamed that there's nothing I can do to get him to stop talking to me like this. He makes me feel like the only thing I'm useful for is sex.

"Seriously, James, leave me alone."

"I will," it surprises me that he complies with my request, but he finishes his thought. "But only because I'm hungry. I'll see you bright and early Monday morning, Sugar." James winks, but before he goes, he reaches his hand a bit up my skirt and squeezed my thigh. I let out a yelp in response, and he laughs, walking off and leaving us in peace.

Once he's gone, my head flings around towards Evie. "Please don't tell Steve!" I plead. Her mouth falls, and she looks astonished.

"Eileen, you can't keep this from him. This isn't the first time it's happened, is it?" I shake my head, letting my eyes fall to the table. "Eileen, you have to tell him! How long has it been going on?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know, Evie. I guess since around the time Soda's parents passed." I force myself to meet her gaze, and when I do, she looks far from pleased. "Evie, please, I can't tell him. He has enough of his own problems to deal with. He doesn't need mine too." Evie shoots me another displeased look.

"Eileen, you're his girlfriend," she reasons. "His main goal is go make sure you're okay, and with that kid botherin' you, you're not okay. It's going to get worse, and who knows what that creep will try to do? Besides, Steve is gonna be mighty pissed if he finds out."

"Well, he's not!"

"Eileen, listen to me. Whether you want him to or not, Steve is probably gonna find out. It ain't gonna take long before kids start noticin' that somethin' is goin' on between you two, and everyone knows you're goin' with Steve. Someone is gonna tell him, and either way, your lone problem will become his too, but think about it! Steve has a _way_ better change of stopping him than you do. Please, Eileen, tell him."

I consider everything she just said, and she perks up, thinking she convinced me, but after dwelling on the thought for a moment or so, I shake my head. Evie's face falls.

"Nope, I'm not telling him."

XxXxXxX

After learning that I have to babysit the Sanders children, I coax Jacquelyn into coming with me. It's no secret that she loves kids, and I'm a little relieved that she had agreed to come with me.

Ms Sanders is a single mother of two girls and a little boy. I've babysat her twelve-year-old, Margaret, and six-year-old, Cynthia, before, but this is my first time with her baby, Timothy. I'm pretty sure he's ten-months-old, but I'm not positive. Still, the idea of watching him unnerves me.

Ms Sanders looks relieved when we arrive, and like I had predicted, she doesn't appear to care that I brought Jackie along. "Hi, Girls, thank you so much for coming," she greets breathlessly. "Cynthia is all wound up, and Margaret is getting tired of it. I trust you to be careful with Timothy, Eileen, so if you two want to take them to the park, go ahead. If you need anything, my work number is on the fridge." She finishes with telling us that she hates to rush off, but if she doesn't, she'll be late.

And like that, Jacquelyn and I are alone with three younger kids. Inside the house, Margaret is spread out of the couch, and it sounds like she's listening to The Beatles on their radio set, and on the floor, Cynthia is playing with a teddy bear. The preteen's jaw clenches as Cynthia's volume increases, and after exchanging a quick glance with Jacquelyn, we both agree we need to intervene – and fast.

Jackie steps forward, but before she can talk, I speak. "Hi, Ladies," I greet lamely. Cynthia looks towards us with a big smile on her face, but her attention catches on Jacquelyn; as for Margaret, I think she couldn't care less, and secretly, I wish I didn't have to deal with her.

I hate the way preteen girls act, and I hope I wasn't the same way as them.

I introduce my friend to Cynthia before asking if they want leave. Margaret's ears perk up at the idea, and the younger one nearly bursts a seam with excitement. "Can I bring Bella?" She inquires, holding up her bear. I shrug my shoulders.

"If you really want to." Jackie says. I leave my friend with the girls while heading off down the hall to retrieve the youngest Sanders child. In his room, he's sleeping peacefully, and I feel guilty for waking him up.

When he's in my arms, I reposition him, so he can lay his head against my shoulder, and like I imagined, the little boy falls right asleep. With one hand, I throw some supplies into his diaper bag, and once the task is complete, I head off to join the girls and Jacquelyn.

Cynthia hops across each crack in the sidewalk while Margaret wanders ahead of our group. She leaps over another crack before halting and turning towards Jackie and me. "Where are we goin' again?" Jackie bites her lip, and right as I open my mouth to remind her, Jackie starts talking.

"I think Eileen said something about going to the DX and grabbing something to drink before heading to the park." She answers. Cynthia seems more than excited with the idea, and she runs to Jackie's side, grabbing onto her hand. My eyes pass over the youngest girl onto the oldest. Her speed has increased, and in response, I groan.

"Margaret, slow down," I call. "We're not going to the park yet." She stops abruptly and turns to face us; she looks absolutely pissed. "We're going to the DX."

Inside the DX, Sodapop is standing behind the counter, talking to Ponyboy and Johnny. Above us, a small bell rings, causing all three boys to turn around. "Hello, Miss Eileen," Soda greet. "Who ya got with ya?" I step towards the counter with everyone following behind me. I introduce the group, and Soda starts to smile when he sees the little guy in my arms.

"This is Timothy," I share, glancing down at the sleeping boy. "I'm watching him and his sisters with the help of Jacquelyn today. We stopped by to grab some drinks before we head over to the park." Once the words drop from my mouth, Jackie, Margaret and Cynthia scurry off to grab something. Sodapop starts to chuckle at them and tells his brother and Johnny a quick good-bye as they slip out the door. "So, how're you holding up, Soda?" His face falls a little.

"It hurts like hell," he whispers, casting his eyes downward. "I thought it'd get a little easier once they were buried. Ya know, knowin' they're in a better place and whatnot, but it didn't help none. I really can't believe they're actually gone." Soda quits talking and hesitates. His mouth hands open slightly, and although it appears to me that he wants to say something, nothing comes from his mouth. He looks unsure of himself, and before he has a chance to continue, the three girls return, pushing me out of the way. "You wanna see Steve 'fore you leave? He's right in back." He starts to ring up their drinks, and before I can think twice, I nod my head.

I need reassurance.

Sodapop winks and tells me that he's right inside the garage. I pass Timothy over to Jackie before going to find my boyfriend, and I hope with everything in me that Evie is right with what she said.

"Steve, where are you?" I call out, entering the garage. He slides out from underneath a Corvette with a look of confusion evident on his face.

"Eileen, what're you doin' here? You with Sandy or somethin'?" I shake my head, stepping closer to him. He pushes himself to his feet, wiping his hands on his jeans.

"I stopped by with Jacquelyn and these kids we're watching," I answer. "But you're not mad at me, are you?" I find myself getting shy, and as much as I want to, I can't meet his eyes.

"Mad at you?" He sounds confused, leading me to believe Evie is right. "Why would I be mad at ya? Somethin' been goin' on that I should know 'bout?" Steve teases. He pulls my face up towards his before leaning down and planting a kiss to my lips.

My heart starts to beat against my chest, and this is it. I should tell him now. He's not mad at me over the stopping before it got too far thing, but he's so happy. I like happy Steve, and I'm not too excited to ruin his mood, and that means one thing.

He's not going to find out about James.

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><p><strong>So, she refuses to tell Steve. Surely this isn't going to end well.<strong>

**I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, and it would mean SO much to me if you guys reviewed! Your feedback means the world to me, and it makes my day when you guys leave reviews. Please review! :)**

**One last note... I'm having a bit of trouble writing the next chapter, and I'm hoping it'll pass, but with that being said, it might be a week or so before the next chapter is posted. Sorry for that.**


	18. Under Pressure

**I'm afraid I've got some bad news for you all... I'm having trouble getting into the next chapter. It's not that I'm having writer's block; it's just that I'm having trouble writing the chapter. I know what I want to happen, but I can't get into the putting my thoughts into words part. It really sucks.**

**I think I replied to those that reviewed the last chapter, but if I didn't, I want you all to know that I appreciate your reviews. I hope you guys like this chapter, and I really hope to hear from you guys once you've finished reading.**

* * *

><p>Steve fails to greet me at my locker Monday morning, and in a sort of sense, it makes me uneasy. It's unlike him to fail to show, and for the most part, he's gotten control on how many days he misses, and the fact that he isn't here right now influences a mixture of emotions to run wild.<p>

I sift through the books in my locker with a mind somewhere other than school. I know I shouldn't worry about Steve, but I can't help it. What if the soc got to him again? I remember towards the beginning of the year when those soc jumped him while he was alone.

Someone drops back against one of the locker, creating a loud thud, but it's not enough to pull me out of the trance I'm passing through. "Hey, Hot Stuff," the person comments, and once again, I can't believe this is happening. I break away from my books, shooting James a nasty glare. He feigns hurt and shakes his head slowly. "It doesn't look like someone is having too good of a morning." I roll my eyes, setting my last book in my locker and shutting the door.

"I'd be having a much better day if you would take a hint, and leave me alone." I growl, storming off down the hall. James watches me go, and for a split second, I feel like I finally got through to him; then, to prove me wrong, he pushes himself off the locker and chases after me.

"Ooh, Baby, don't go playing hard to get," he says. "I don't think it's a secret that James doesn't take no for an answer." James slings his arm around my shoulder, and after I shrug it off, he repeats his action.

Right now, I wish Steve was here to beat the shit out of him.

"James, what do you want from me?" I deadpan, trying to shrug his arm off of me. A few soc and middle class kids shoot me dirty looks, and I figure they're the type that frowns down upon any form of PDA - despite my best efforts to get him to stop.

"I don't want anything from you, Baby," he answer smoothly. "But don't think I haven't seen those looks you give me in class. I'm well aware that you want a piece of me, and I'm trying to deliver, Honey. I just want to satisfy your needs and show you a real good time." Once again, I roll my eyes; I don't know where he's getting the idea that I "want a piece of him", but I would love for him to leave me alone.

"I'm not interested," I throw his arm off of me, and when he goes to replace it, I duck out of the way. "Seriously, I have a boyfriend, and James, I don't give you any looks. Now, for the last time, leave me alone." He doesn't pay any heed to my statement, and as we head down the stairs, James matches my pace.

"Baby, I don't know what crawled up your butt and died, but I promise you I can fix it. It'll take me a measly 15 minutes to make your day better." James continues on my tail as I hit the bottom floor, and I learn fast that it's a lost cause to try and speed up my walking - like on the stairs, he proceeds to match my pace.

James passes one of his friends in the hallway, and the two of them share a silent exchange of words which consists of James throwing him a couple suggestive raises of his eyebrows and his friend returning the gesture with a single nod of his head. Once James' black haired freak passes, his head wipes around, and before I have a chance to figure out what's going on, he grabs my butt in his hand and squeezes.

I emit a small shriek, and my face flushes red with embarrassment.

James claims the empty seat beside me in Spanish, and as his little creeps come into the class, he waves them over. Once again, I get to spend the next hour in _luxury_, and before now, I've never considered walking out of class without permission.

His friends talk loudly amongst themselves, and for the most part, James leaves me to work on my assignments in peace, and I'm not complaining one bit. Then, his friends start to quiet down, and I've come to know that whenever something like this happens, nothing good is about to emerge.

Once again, I'm right.

James turns to face me with a smirk, and unlike Steve's, his is laced with dirty comments and suggestive actions. "Are you doing better, Sugar?" James asks, and as my jaw clenches at another round of his antics, I shake my head. "That's a shame, Eileen, because your shirt is doing wonders for those boobs of yours, and if you want, my offer still stands for showing you a good time." His friends start giggling, and his comment still makes me feel ashamed of myself.

James shoots me a wink, and as his comment sinks in, it makes me feel ever more disgusted than I was before.

I can't wait for this class to end.

XxXxXxX

My class races for the door once the lunch bell rings, but I take my time. I don't exactly fancy the idea of being trampled and seeing as how Soda, or Steve, isn't here today, I don't have any reason to hurry. My teacher mumbles a few things under his breath, and although I don't think it's negative, I don't acknowledge it; I continue on my way.

Steve is standing outside the classroom, waiting for me, and inside, I feel myself growing annoyed that he decided to show up now - not this morning when I needed him the most.

I sigh internally, remembering that Steve is oblivious to the antics James is forcing me through. I remind myself that I refuse to tell him; therefore, he has no idea that his presence saves me from the crap James pulls with me.

"Hey, you wanna head off for lunch?" Steve inquires, and I nod my head when I see that he looks like he's craving a smoke, and as a sort of reassurance that he'll protect me from anything, I slip my hand in his, lacing our fingers together.

He doesn't drop me, and when Steve squeezes my hand gently, it brings a smile to my face.

XxXxXxX

We settle on the new malt shop down the road from The Dingo, and although the place only serves ice cream cones, shakes and malts, we decide it's what we want for lunch. I'm sure that if my mother was here, she would be nagging me that this isn't healthy and that I should be eating something more filling, but I don't care. Honestly, I don't think Steve cares either.

He situates our duo in front of the counter; my eyes scan the menu, and if I'm being honest with myself, it all sounds really good. Off to the right, a couple cups are taped to a piece of cardboard, and when I see the two sizes they offer, my stomach churns. It appears they only sell medium, which looks like a large, and a large, which looks like extra large.

Needless to say, there's no way I'll be able to finish one by myself.

"Steve," I nudge him, directing my attention towards him. "Will you share something with me?" He gives me a funny face, and before he can question me, I continue. "There's no way I'm going to be able to finish one of these things by myself."

"Yeah, I split somethin' with ya," Steve answers. "What do ya want?" He throws his around my shoulders, waiting for my answer. My eyes scan over the menu again, and out of everything on the board, a chocolate shake sounds the most appealing.

I tell Steve what I want, and once he agrees, he pulls us towards the counter. The woman at the cash register asks for our order, and Steve remains silent – a clear indication that he doesn't have any intention of ordering.

She looks at me, and in response, I shake my head, nudging Steve. He groans and rolls his eyes before giving into my refusal. "I needa get one medium chocolate shake." She rings up our purchase and reads off the price. He pulls his arm away from me and digs into his back pocket for his wallet.

Once we receive our shake, Steve declares that we're heading back out to his truck. I follow after him, and as soon as we step through the door, Steve hands me the shake and pulls out a cigarette.

I should've known.

Steve leans again his truck, lighting his cigarette and taking a huge drag on it. "Can, I ask you a question, Eileen?" Steve inquires, pulling his cancer stick out of his mouth. My heart starts to race. Deep inside, something tells me he found out about the whole James situation. Something tells me someone told him what's been going on. With my mind in a daze, I nod my head, and Steve continues with his question.

I should just tell him. I should just stop him now, and confess everything.

He nudges me gently, and it takes me a second to realize he's waiting for my answer. My eyes widen, and I look at him, confused. "What?" I question. "Sorry, Steve, I wasn't paying attention." I expect him to groan or roll his eyes, but neither of the two happens.

"Why us?" He questions. I take a sip of our shake, waiting for him to expand on what he's asking; honestly though, I think I have a pretty good idea what he's asking. "Out of all 'em kids, why'd you choose a bunch of greasers to hang around with?" I shrug my shoulders, thinking of how to answer his question.

I know exactly why I'm here. I'm tired of being the perfect little girl my parents want. I'm tired of the dull and routine life I live. I'm here because I crave excitement, and I know the greasers of the East side can provide me with that.

"Soda always told me stories about you guys, and he made it sound like you guys have a lot of fun," I answer, taking another drink. "I guess I didn't intend of sticking with you guys, but you guys became my new friends, so here I am." Steve stares at the road ahead, taking another suck on his cigarette, and to me, it seems that's content with my answer.

Considering Steve appears to be in a good mood, I strongly debate on telling him about James, but I'm afraid. I'm afraid that he'll get insanely mad at not only James, but at me as well.

He starts to chuckles, and it makes me jump. "Babe, you want a smoke? You look a little upset." Steve offers his cigarette to me, and despite the fact that I don't smoke, the offer is really tempting.

"I've never smoked before," I tell him quietly, staring at the stick. "What if I do something wrong?" I break away from the cigarette and meet Steve's eyes. He looks amused, and I can tell he's holding back a laugh.

"It ain't that hard, Eileen." I take it from him nervously, handing him our shake in return, and before I can talk myself out of it, I put the cigarette to my lips; Steve watches me the whole time. I start to inhale, but before I have a chance to finish my breath, I pull it from my mouth before a fit of coughs overtakes my body.

I throw the cigarette on the ground before falling against Steve's body. He laughs loudly, knocking our shake onto the ground. "S-Steve!" I cough, covering my mouth. "It's not funny!" My eyes start to water as my breathing begins to regulate. "I'm ready to go back to school now." I whisper, burying my face in his arm.

"I can't believe you wasted the last of my weed."

XxXxXxX

"Eileen, I think we need to have a small talk," Dad comments, cutting into his steak. It's a clear indication that he'll be doing most of the talking, so I don't react. When my father notices this, he continues forward with this chat. "I'm not too fond of how much time you're spending with this Steven boy." I groan louder than intended which results in a dirty look from Dad; Mom even decides to scold me.

"Eileen, behave yourself."

"Young Lady, this is for your own good. I can assure you that this boy is nothing but trouble, and he's going to get you to dance with the law with him. It's already happened before, hasn't it?" I nod reluctantly, remembering the time that we were caught stealing hubcaps with Soda.

"Yes, Sir."

Dad shakes his head and sighs. "Honey, I wish you would drop that boy. If you knew what was good for you, you would," Douglas looks at me with a satisfied smirk on his face. "Eileen, there's so many better boys out there for you. What about Frank's son? He's so much better than that hood you're with now."

"I don't want to get with someone like Mr Rivera's son!" I cry, setting my fork on the table. "Dad, he's a nerd!" He opens his mouth to scold me for acting rudely towards someone that isn't even with us – something about talking shit behind his back. My parents aren't fond of that despite the fact that it's a way of life for teenagers. "Steve is a whole lot better than John will ever be, and he hasn't have run-ins with the law in a while!" Douglas rolls his eyes and takes a bite of mashed potatoes.

"Don't listen to her, Dad," he says through a mouthful of food. "I saw him kissing on this junior girl a couple days ago at lunch." Dad shakes his head in disapproval, and I can't believe it.

"Dad, don't listen to Douglas," Imogene interjects, noticing I'm on the verge of tears. "He's feeding you lies, so you'll force her to break up with Steve. He isn't bad, and Eileen's right. He's a lot better than John Rivera." Doug shakes his head and proceeds with his lies.

Imogene stops defending Steve, and she, along with Mom, start at Douglas. Both of them reassure my dad that he's a good kid for me while telling my brother to shut up. I bury my face in my hands, willing the tears to go away.

I can't cry.

I can't let Douglas have the satisfaction of seeing me cry, and there's no way that Dad will ease up any if I start to sob.

My family continues to bicker around me, and before long, I can't take anymore of it. "Knock it off, and shut the fuck up, Douglas!" I scream. My family falls dead silent, and several angry tears threaten to spill down my cheeks. No one reacts to my use of the F-bomb, and if I'm being completely honest with myself, I can't believe I said it.

I wipe my eyes furiously before pushing my chair back. Mom, Dad, Imogene and Douglas continue to stare at me, but I don't care. Without another word, I storm off to my room where I can release my anger in peace.

And I decide that I hope Douglas rots in hell.

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><p><strong>I hope to hear from you all in a review. I hope you guys liked the chapter.<strong>


	19. CH 19

**Sixteen Candles**  
><em>Chapter Nineteen<em>

**Author's Note: Hi, I am so sorry for how long I've been gone. I'm not even going to give excuses because I don't have anything that'll justify my several month absence, but I'm back with another chapter. First off, I want to apologize for the length. It's_super_ short compared to my other chapters, and after how long it's been, it should be the exact opposite - _super_ long. I am so sorry. If anyone is still out there, waiting for the next chapter, this is dedicated to you - thank you for sticking with me. I love you :)**

"Hey, Babe," Steve greets plainly, staring down at me. "I'm skippin' second hour. You wanna come with me?" Any emotion I was feeling prior to his proposal drains from my face, and I shoot him a questioning look. There's no way he can be serious, but he is, and before I have time to object, he adds on. "Please, Eileen."

I want to protest. After last night's family feud, I'm not exactly on good terms with my father. We hold each other's gaze, and in this time of silence, I think carefully of how to choose my words.

But as each second passes, the foreign look in Steve's eyes expands, and it looks like he really might need me. I like this feeling. I like the feeling that he actually needs me instead of the other way around.

At this point, I couldn't care less about my dad's thoughts.

I bite back a grin, nodding my head, and as soon as I agree, Steve grabs my arm and drags me towards the front of the building. It sinks in slowly as to what's going on before hitting me full force.

We're actually leaving the high school.

"Steve, I didn't think we'd be leaving school!" I share, struggling to keep up with him. He plows through a small group of students, and a couple girls shoot him nasty looks. "I thought we were just going to sneak off to a different part of the school." Some senior teacher tries to stop up, and Steve doesn't waste a second in giving her the finger and he bursts through the front doors.

I shoot her an apologetic look, but I don't think it makes her feel any better.

"I need to get away from this place," he grumbles, leading me towards his truck. "Eileen, you're not going to believe this shit when I tell you." When we reach his truck, he rips the passenger door open. I climb in without saying a word, and thankfully I'm completely in the truck because seconds later, Steve slams the door shut.

He storms over to his side, and with each passing second, it seems like he manages to get even more pissed with whatever is bothering him.

We fly down the streets of Tulsa, and on the whole ride, Steve doesn't say a single word to me. "Steve, where are we going?" I ask. "What's going on? What's wrong with you?"

"Nothin'." He mutters, but it's a lie, and I know as well as he does that there's something more to the problem.

Before long, we come to a stop on the outskirts where the pavement meets a dirt road, and the nearest house is probably a mile or so away.

Until now, I never thought this was possible in Tulsa.

Steve shuts his truck off before unbuckling and turning to face me. "I can't believe this," he starts, and although I don't have a clue as to what he's talking about, I slowly start to nod my head. "Oh, no, wait until you hear what's goin' on. I don't think you're gonna believe it either." Steve stops, and the silence continues.

"Well, are you going to tell me?"

"It's fuckin' ridiculous," he repeats. I look at him, and he stares back into my eyes. I've never seen him look so angry, and the only thing I know is that I don't like it. "Soda's gonna drop out of school."

Without a moment's hesitation, my heart skips a beat. I'm too stunned to talk, but thankfully, Steve doesn't seem to notice. He continues talking like I'm not even there.

"He's talkin' shit like the state is down Darry's throat, threatenin' to take 'im and Pony away," he explains. "Darry can't afford to feed three mouths, and with his two jobs, they're barely makin' ends meet. But hell, Soda's only sixteen. He shouldn't hafta work too." Steve shakes his head slowly before slapping the steering wheel. "Fuck. Why'd this have to happen to them? Why their parents? It ain't fair."

"Life isn't fair." I repeat in a feeble voice. I feel lousy providing only that when Steve obviously needs some comforting, but I'm still too stunned to even come up with anything to help him.

Steve snorts loudly.

"Ain't that the truth."

We remain on the dirt road for what feels like an eternity, and by the time Steve finally decides to head back to school, second period is nearly over. In the attendance office, the secretary shoots us questioning looks, and although I'm sure my face is as red as a tomato, Steve remains calm, cool and collected.

And when lunch comes around, I have a hard time looking at Soda.

XxXxXxX

I sit at the table, working away at my homework and taking advantage of the empty house.

But right as I'm getting into the groove of schoolwork, the front door swings open – banging off the wall – and someone comes storming in. "Eileen, are you here?" Dad's voice sounds hard; I swallow hard – he means business, and something tells me it relates to dinner last night.

"I'm in here." I answer back weakly. I take a deep breath, struggling to focus on my algebra, but it's a lost cause.

He enters the room, and instantly, my heart starts to race. I look up slowly, and like I predicted, he means business – he looks mad.

Dad walks to the table, and silently, he takes a seat across from me. "I think we need to have a little talk about what happened last night, don't you think?" I swallow hard again, weakly nodding. "Sweetheart, it was unnecessary to call John those names." He starts to ease up much to my surprise. "He's a nice boy, but that's not what I want to talk to you about. I want to talk to you and your swearing, okay?" I nod.

"Yes, Sir."

"I am disappointed in you; your mother is as well," he starts, but Dad never breaks his cool. "We raised you better than that. We taught you that swearing is bad, and it's unladylike. Is that clear?" I nod once more. "I should punish you since you've been having a lot of run-ins with trouble lately, but this time, I'm going to let you off with a warning, but don't get use to it." My heart skips a beat, and before I can get in another word, Dad gets up and walks off.

I stare at my homework – absolutely stunned and wondering what the fuck I did to deserve this.

**Once again, thank you for sticking around with me, and I know it's been a very long time, I would love to hear from you all in a review. I'm sorry once more for the length.**

**I hope to hear from my lovely readers. I've missed you guys**


	20. CH 20

Hi, everyone.. In case you haven't noticed, I've been gone for a few months without an explanation. I want to let you know that all is well, but I've been fairly busy lately, and I haven't exactly been in a writing mood. Slowly but surely, I think the urge to write is coming back, so I guess we'll see as time continues.

On top of not wanting to write fanfics, my interest in _The Outsiders_ in declining. Instead of lying to myself, I think it's safe to assume I've *unofficially* left the fandom (to be completely honest, I'm still having a hard time breaking away from you guys and this book because it's made such an impact on my life; therefore, I've been in denial about leaving).

Shortly after I post this, I'm going to begin another fanfic, and it'll be posted on Wattpad (my name is the same on there as it is here). Quite a few months ago, I really started to take an interest in classic rock and Queen, and currently, I'm in fandoms for both. If any of you have an interest in Queen, I suggest taking a look at my Wattpad. I have a chapter posted of a story I started back in December, but I'm not sure if I'll continue it. I managed to work myself into a dead end.

But my next Queen fanfic is going to be a John Deacon x OC, so if you're a fan of Queen's music, I would really appreciate you guys checking out my Wattpad account periodically for the next few days.

One last thing, I'm not going to completely give up on this story. I might get little bursts of inspirations here and there to continue, so if you're still interested, I'd keep it in the back of your mind. I don't care how long it takes me, but I am determined to finish this story.

I'm sorry if I disappointed you with this, but I love you all. If you want to keep in touch, go ahead and send me a PM. I'm on frequently answering the ones them.

_- a gramm of deaky_


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